The Lost Child
by dewdrop19
Summary: When Fitzwilliam Darcy meets Elizabeth Bennet at Meryton Assembly, he recovers a lost family member for she is no poor country chit, but an extremely wealthy heiress and his...cousin. P&P AU.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1: FOUND**

Dovedale, 1791

The heaven was scowling, wind was howling and thunderclouds were raging. It was twilight, but darkness made it appear as if it was well beyond midnight.

Rain lashed against the bosom of the Earth in a fiery haze, whilst the tumultuous sky was sporadically alit with bolts of lightning that seemed to nearly tear the world in half. Giant boughs of trees shook like demented beasts, sending humans and animals scurrying for shelter.

Tearing through the darkness, braving the storm moved a run down carriage. Its pace severely decimated due to sludge and mud.

"Perdition to thee!" Its driver spat, cursing himself for agreeing for the journey. His muscles ached and his eyes nearly drooped with exhaustion as he braved the terrible fury of nature.

His horses were weary and easily spooked in the tempestous weather, yet he drove along.

Had it not been for the promised three hundred pounds, he would never have agreed to this journey. He sighed with relief when at long last they arrived for which they had aimed.

Looming in the darkness,rose a monolith, long since fallen into abeyance. A man exited the carriage with a small bundle and swiftly entered the dilapidated structure. Soon enough, he appeared again empty handed and board the carriage. As the carriage swiftly moved forward, he watched avidly as the stone shelter again became obscured in darkness.

Meryton Assemble, 1812

Fitzwilliam Darcy was irate. His glower becoming fiercer, with every whisper of 'Ten thousand pounds a year!' By jove, the company was so crass, the manner so despicable and people the very epitome of savagery. Had they no manner, no sense of propriety to at least hush their voices as they discussed his monetary worth as if he were a horse on sale!

As if it were not enough, he had to be polite to them, bowing and accepting their curtsy as every match making Mama all but shoved their daughter in his face.

He looked over at his friend to find him quite enjoying the company.

But then again there is nothing much that puts Bingley in a foul temper, he thought wryly.

Sighing, he bowed his head slightly as he was introduced to a Mr and Mrs Bennet. The woman was as uncouth and vulgar as they came, yet there he stood gritting his teeth as the woman all but dragged her daughters forward to effect an introduction.

"Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy, please allow me to introduce you to my daughters, Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Mary Bennet My youngest two are otherwise engaged." Mr. Bennet said wryly, his voice fraught with amusement.

Barely, glancing at the women in front of him as he was usually wont to do at such soirée, he bowed his head in acknowledgement. However, as he curtly answered some inane query of Mrs Bennet, his eyes locked with one of the young women standing in front of him and his eyes widened with disbelief.

Standing there was a young lady, her emerald green eyes vibrant with a keen intellect and laughter. Luscious, mahogany curls were set atop her head in an elaborate hairstyle, a few rebellious tendrils framing her delicate face most becomingly. Thick lashes framed her eyes and her lips were curled in a most enchanting smile.

However, it was not her captivating beauty that entranced him, but her appearance, her familiarity...

His shocked eyes traced her features desperately, his heart filled with trepidation and excitement in equal measure. He could not recall the last time he had felt such fierce tangle of contradictory emotions, not even when he first rode a pony as a lad. Yet now, his heart was pounding fit to burst as his eyes traced the woman's features that were so familiar, yet so unfamiliar...

Had the ton seen him then, they would have borne witness to a most spectacular sight of the stoic master of Pemberley, one of the finest estates in the kingdom, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy come undone!

Mr Darcy stumbled back, as he found the damning proof of his miraculous discovery. A small scar no longer than the size of his thumbnail, extended from her chin to her left jawbone in a most unusual shape of a bird in flight. It was rather deep, an ugly reminder of a bad fall, the only flaw on her otherwise flawless face.

He remembered it, remebmered that day, the fall which had caused it, the tears that had been shed and the comfort given. It was the last summer that his family had spent in gaiety and cheer...the last summer before their lives altered forever...before their lives became purgatory.

However, his elation and disbelief slowly gave way to fury.

For standing before him, unaware of her own nobility and roots, was Lady Elizabeth Anne Fitzwilliam, the long lost only daughter of Lady Elienora Jean Cavendish Fitzwilliam, the Countess of Matlock and Henry Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock.

 **PLEASE REVIEW.**

 **THERE IS NOTHING THAT ENCOURAGES A WRITER MORE THAN THE READERS REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.**


	2. Chapter 2

I extend my sincerest thanks to all those who have reviewed and put me on alert. Thank you. I am simply overwhelmed with your response.

Also many readers raised the question of inconsistency of dates. Allow me to clear your doubts.

 **THE BUNDLE WHICH THE MYSTERIOUS MAN CARRIED IN THE OLD BUILDING WAS NOT ELIZABETH.** It will be clear later in the story.

 **ALSO, AS TO HOW MR DARCY IMMEDIATELY RECOGNIZED ELIZABETH WILL HOPEFULLY BE CLEAR AFTER YOU READ THIS CHAPTER.**

For those of you who also like Harry Potter fanfiction, you can check out my other story ' **The path unknown'.** Its a GoF AU.

Here is the next update. I hope you like it.

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 2 :SUBTERFUGE

Fitzwilliam Darcy was mesmerised. He stared at the rugged beauty of countryside, the light mist that enveloped the Oakham mountain and surrounding fauna, giving it a shimmering emerald sheen. Brilliant hues of pink and orange trimmed the horizon,whilst the sky gradually turned a pale mauve.

A light wind ruffled his dark locks and for the first time since the startling discovery of the night before he felt any semblance of peace. After his rendezvous with Elizabeth or Miss Bennet as she was now called, he had spent his entire time, stalking her throughout the expansive room, barely paying attention to anyone. Like a moth drawn to a flame, his eyes were riveted to her person.

She was nearly a mirror image of her mother, Lady Elienora, the Countess of Matlock, except her hair which was dark unlike her mother's flaxen locks and her eyes for there too she had favoured the Fitzwilliam side.

Later that night,while engaging her in a most stimulating conversation he had ever had with the fairer sex , he had tactfully mentioned the places she would indeed be familiar with if she was truly his cousin and she had not disappointed for she indeed remembered her childhood lisp of calling Pemberley, 'Pemblee' and his cousin Harold and Richard as 'Harry and Richie', though she had promptly turned red at her inadvertent musing and fled his company.

Sighing, Mr Darcy turned away from the verdant scene beyond and rang for his valet. Whilst he had been lost in his abstraction, the Sun had lightened the horizon and it was time to break his fast.

Despite the greatest urge to reaquaint his cousin with all that she had lost, he had to persevere. After returning from the Assembly, he had hastily penned down two letters, one for his cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, requesting his immediate presence at Netherfield park (He shall gain Bingley's aquiescence later today for surely such propriety can be disregarded in extenuating circumstances as these. Besides, it was not as if Bingley will be any less welcoming of him), without giving any substantial reason and another for his attorney, a MrJeremiah Edwards.

He gave him specific instructions to run a thorough but discreet inquiry on these Bennets. The circumstances of disappearance of his cousin had been so enigmatic that none could be trusted lest the news of her recovery reached the wrong sorts. After all, though it was never proved, for even the investigators at Bow Street had failed (perhaps deliberately under duress), the daring required to kidnap the child of a powerful member of the peerage, was an act of no common felon.

It was a deliberate and cunningly astute act of malice mayhap for political gain and rivalry for it indeed had a mostly debilitating impact on all their lives, more so of his aunt and uncle who had loved little Elizabeth or Libbet as she had then liked to be called, most dearly and had been most severely grieved with her loss. Even now when nearly eight and ten years had passed since Elizabeth's disappearance, they were still neither any less devastated as they had been initially, nor had they given up hope of their daughter's return.

With God's grace, their wait was finally nearing an end.

After dismissing his valet, he made his way down to find Bingley and his sisters already seated at the table. Apparently, Mr Hurst was still out cold owing in no small amount to the large quantity of liquor he had consumed the previous night. The man was quite literally a bottomless pit!

"Good Morning Mr Darcy!" Miss Bingley shrilled, her eyes gleaming.

He responded to her greeting in as stoic and bland manner as he possibly could, yet it still lit her face with exultation. She simpered at him, coyly serving him breakfast whilst subtly (in her opinion) letting him know that she had ordered all his favorites to be cooked, making Mr. Darcy wonder if she will even start spoon-feeding him in her quest to reach the substantial coffers of Pemberley.

Of course her aim was championed most effectively by her elder sister Mrs Hurst, who then subtly ( again in her opinion for he was sure that both sisters wouldn't know of subtlety even if it smote them on their faces!) in a poor attempt of conversation began rhapsodizing her sister's superior breeding and talents and of course her _unquestionable eligibility to make a most competent, charming wife to a man of consequence._

 _The hag and the pug!_ Mr. Darcy thought irascibly and promptly felt a swell of shame at his ungentlemanly thought.

"Mr Darcy, I wish to extend my most hearty apologies for the night before. I do not know what Charles was thinking! To importune you with such an uncouth gathering of these country savages! Such vulgarity and despicable manners. I am simply mortified." Miss Bingley cried, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Miss Bingley, while I am most obliged with your consideration for my comfort, I assure you that you need not denounce the gathering so, for indeed though I found a most avid want of propriety, it was not so bad as to deserve such censure. Now if you will excuse me." Mr Darcy said coldly and stood up.

"I say Bingley perhaps we should spend the morning with your steward. We need to peruse the accounts." Mr Darcy said and then adressed Miss Bingley.

"Miss Bingley, we shall have an addition to our party soon. I sent an express to my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, to join us here for I required his assistance on a matter of great importance. I apologise for any inconvenience, but I request your hospitality for him."

Miss Bingley who had been put out with his cold manner, nearly jumpled at the opportunity to flaunt her excellent skills as hostess to a member of Mr Darcy's family, that too the second son of an Earl at that!

"It is no inconvenience Mr Darcy. We shall be most delighted with his exalted company." Miss Bingley cried.

Bowing his head slightly in gratitude, Mr Darcy accompanied Mr Bingley to his study.

A few hours later, after having perused and discussed the accounts, Mr Darcy requested the steward, a Mr Pyne to tell them more on their neighbours and other landed gentlemen of Hertfordshire for he insisted that a man ought to have such intimate information of his neighbours.

"The biggest estate in Hertfordshire after Netherfield park is Longbourn which is owned by Mr Thomas Bennet. It generates an income of two thousand pounds a year and is entailed to a distant cousin of Mr Bennet for he has no heir but five daughters. All five girls are out in the society and the eldest two are considered the great beauties of Hertfordshire. However, they have little by way of dowry. So, they only have their wits and charm to recommend them for matrimony. Then there are the Lucases who are..."

And so Mr Pyne continued with his expounding of the men who held prominence in Hertfordshire and the surrounding area, but Mr Darcy did not pay him any attention for he already had the information which he sought.

Matlock House, London

Colonel Fitzwilliam was worried. He had received Mr Darcy's express that morning, requesting his presence at Netherfield park on a matter of great importance, though his cousin had been vague and miserly with information. When he first read the missive, Colonel Fitzwilliam had feared that somehow Bingley's fortune hunter of a sister had finally managed to compromise Darcy into an engagement, but later he rationalised that had it been so, then surely Darcy would not have been so vague...he would have given him all possible details to aid him in escaping the vapid viper that was Caroline Bingley.

He immediately rang his valet to pack for his journey and took leave of his parents and brother. His mother had been most disappointed for he had arrived home just two days back.

But she did not endeavour to stop him for she loved her nephew Darcy fiercely enough to part with her son as he went to his cousin's aid.

After the events that had forever changed their lives eight and ten years earlier, his mother was only a shell of her previous cheery self. Nowadays her only source of comfort were her husband, sons, nephew and nieces, especially Georgiana (for she could not possibly dote on her other niece, Anne owing to Lady Catherine's overbearing personality), in whom Richard was sure she sought her daughter Elizabeth.

Elizabeth.

He sighed and shook his head. Even after so many years had passed since she was taken from them, their wounds were still raw. She was a little ray of sunshine, his Elizabeth, an extremely brilliant, precocious child who had brightened every life she had touched. Nobody escaped her magic.

Hell even Lady Catherine , who was as tenacious as a bull and held no strong affection except for her daughter and siblings had been devastated by her disappearance. Anne who had doted on her young cousin, too had never recovered from the loss.

He still remembered her jubilant laughter as he sat her upon his shoulders or when Harold had allowed her to sit with him on his horse. It had been a sound of such pure, unadulterated joy, the likes of which he had not experienced, not since they had lost the blessing that had been his sister.

The voice of a servant informing him that his horse had been readied for journey broke his painful abstraction and he stood up, shoving his memory to a distant corner of his mind.

After all such wishful thinking will not bring back his beloved sister...It was a loss that can never be replaced.


	3. Chapter 3

First of all, I would like to apologise for the rushed manner in which the last chapter was penned. I will try my best to not to repeat it again.

I am simply speechless with the response this story is getting. My sincerest thanks to everyone who has reviewed, put me on author alert or this story as their favourite.

 **My special thanks to HarnGin, wosedwew,fourraysofsunshine and Guest for pointing out my mistakes. This is the first time I am writing anything pertaining to regency , I know my writing is lacking because it has been more than two years since I last penned down any story, caught up as I was in highschool and career oriented, competitive exams. So, my writing is a bit rusty. In fact, I was genuinely afraid about the kind of response I will get when I first posted this story, but you guys have been more than kind.**

 **I will be happy if you point out my mistakes and I promise they will be promptly corrected and never repeated.**

As for the question of one of the readers, **Yes the Cavendish mentioned in the story are indeed those related to dukedom of Devonshire. In this story, Lady Matlock is the daughter of the Duke of Devonshire.**

 **I know many are confused about the conversation that Darcy and Elizabeth had about Pemberley, Harold and Richard. I promise to tie that particular loose end in the next chapter. As of now, Elizabeth is too despondent to think about the Assembly (as you will read).**

PLEASE REVIEW. THE REVIEWS OF THE READERS ARE BEST ENCOURAGEMENT FOR ANY WRITER. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 3 : ANGUISH

Elizabeth Bennet was upset. She had once again escaped the confines of Longbourn for her early morning ramble in a bid to clear her head. Yet the words of her mother from the night before still haunted her.

From a tender age of eight years, Elizabeth had known that she was not the Bennet's own daughter. Her adoptive mother had seen to that. Although for some reason, she was yet to mention it in front of her other sisters (although of course Jane perhaps remembered her sudden arrival in the family, she had not breathed a word of it) still whenever Mrs Fanny Bennet was upset, either because Elizabeth had done something she did not approve of or she was simply in a foul mood due to one reason or another, she had always made sure to make her adopted daughter aware that _she was no blood of her own, she was a nuisance, just another mouth to feed, another person to share in her daughters' meager dowry!_

More so the fact that Mr Bennet favoured her over his own daughters and clearly held great affection for Elizabeth had further deteriorated the tenuous relationship the two women shared.

Why just the last night, after their return from the Assembly Mrs Bennet had scolded Elizabeth for refusing to give her new gown which was a soft yellow in colour and made of finest muslin, a gift from her aunt and uncle Gardiner, to Lydia to wear to the Assembly. Apparently prior to the Assembly, her adoptive mother had been too busy primping and preening Jane so that she could catch Mr Bingley's attention, to pay any mind to her youngest's complaints. However, later she had no qualms in doing so.

The gown had been Elizabeth's favourite, the one she had been indeed waiting for months to wear (and had finally gotten to do just last night). Still despite being aware of her preference, Mrs Bennet had demanded that she give it away to Lydia to which Elizabeth had naturally protested and gotten tongue lashing of her life.

The older woman had let her know just how great an ungrateful chit she was, uncaring for the ones who had taken her in and put clothes on her back. Without them she would surely have been working her life away at some poorhouse or a brothel, akin to the woman who gave birth to her, for despite not knowing one whit about her origin, Mrs Fanny Bennet had always maintained that she was surely the daughter of some courtesan or a fallen woman, born of a liaision with some man who had then proceeded to refuse to take the responsibility of the child (and justly so! Mrs Bennet had declared self-righteously).

So, from a very tender age, Elizabeth's adoptive mother had impressed upon her that she had bad blood, being born out of wedlock or why else her parents would have given her away?

Although Elizabeth endeavoured not to give Mrs Bennet's flight of fancy any weight, in her heart of hearts she had always wondered if the older woman was right, for why else her parents had given her up like that, depriving her of their love.

The caustic words of the night before had not allowed her the respite of sleep and she had removed herself from Longbourn, as soon as it was within the bounds of propriety to be outside. The loss of her favourite gown, (which was in no time altered to a garish garb, trimmed with excessive lace and fripperies and a neckline so daring that it will truly be God's mercy if Lydia's bosom did not escape its confine for entire Hertfordshire to view) though had pained her, paled in comparison to the verbal assault she had endured.

As she watched the pale light of early dawn slowly alter to a buttery sunshine that painted the world a cheery yellow, the tears that she had kept at bay since the night before,trickled down her face unchecked.

The Library, Longbourn

Mr Bennet reclined on his high back chair with a sigh. A strange pall of gloom had descended on the usually ebullient gentleman after reading the missive that had arrived from London.

For past eight and ten years, the letters had come monthly-curt, demanding and threatening- as if the man knew not even a modicum of courtesy and decorum.

But soon that was about to come to an end for just two months away was the day Elizabeth was born more than two decades ago, the day she will turn one and twenty.

It will also be the day, Mr Thomas Bennet shall see the last of that dear,dear child, who though had not been his own flesh and blood was no less dearer to him than his own daughters.

Yet he would be helpess, unable to answer her any question which she was sure to ask, forced to giver her up to an uncertain and perhaps a horrific future (if the letters were any indication of their writer's disposition), for she had been his penance for a mistake he had committed all those years ago.

Elizabeth shall pay for his sins!

The Library, Netherfield park

Fitzwilliam Darcy watched as the fiery ball of orange disappeared behind the thicket surrounding the Netherfield park, the last of daylight filtering through the thick canopies of trees. Wispy coil of mist was gently undulating, blanketing the picturesque countryside and only shrill caws of nocturnal creatures disturbed the otherwise serene surrounding.

However, the beauty of nature did nothing to sooth his tumultuous thoughts for he now had to disclose the reason as to why he had requested his cousin's presence at such short notice. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had arrived late that afternoon and was currently ensconced in the front parlour experiencing for himself Miss Bingley's warm (f _awning)_ hospitality.

Mr Darcy had earlier excused himself after requesting his cousin's presence in the Library. Lost in his chaotic thoughts as he was, he did not notice the arrival of his cousin, which further concerned Colonel Fitzwilliam for Darcy was always quite aware of his surroundings (an ability that was necessary to avoid being compromised into an engagement by fortune hunters and their match-making Mamas ) except when he was deeply disturbed.

"William what is it?" He asked.

Without answering him, Mr Darcy quickly turned around and went over to the liquor cabinet to pour generous amount of port for both himself and his cousin to fortify the latter for the astounding news he was about to deliver, well aware that he had already alarmed the Colonel.

"I believe I have found cousin Elizabeth. " Mr Darcy said directly, unwilling to tarry. Then he nursed his drink silently, allowing his cousin to process it.

Being in his Majesty's army, there had been countless times when the formidable Colonel had received news that was enough to freeze any man's blood. He had seen most horrific death, fought gory battles, had narrowly escaped capture by enemy troops and had an uncanny ability of always coming up with strategies in the direst of circumstances, yet now as he received the news that he had waited for eight and ten years to hear, he could barely comprehend it...could barely understand the implication of it!

After a protracted period of silence when it became evident that the good Colonel was in no way capable of even moving his muscles to blink much less to react, Mr Darcy launched into a narrative of his fortuitous meeting with Miss Elizabeth.

"Father always did say that she would look like mother when she grew up." Colonel Fitzwilliam finally uttered softly, once Mr Darcy had finished, a maelstrom of emotions evident in his emerald green eyes, which were so similar to that of his sister.

"My sister...my Lizzy! Dear God! All that time we searched for her...all those years we lost, she was here! HERE!" His voice grew steadily louder.

"They hid her...those WRETCHED BENNETS...deprived her of her own family!" He sputtered incoherently. The foulest of imprecations spewing forth from his mouth as his ire rose.

Colonel Fitzwilliam jumped to his feet, his eyes glinting with murderous fury. Mr Darcy was alarmed! In all his life, as far back he could remember, he had seen his amiable cousin lose his composure so spectacularly only once when Wickham had nearly eloped with Georgiana and that had not turned out well for the object of his fury to say the least! (Dislocated shoulder, few teeth short of a full set and a cracked jawbone had been his mildest injuries!)

"Richard calm down. We do not have any evidence as to the culpability of Bennets in the whole ordeal! We cannot go banging on their doors and terrorising them without any evidence!" Mr Darcy growled.

"They have my sister!" Colonel said fiercely.

"And that does not make them felons. For all we know they might have as well saved her life for had they not taken her in, I shudder to imagine what would have become of Elizabeth! However, if they were indeed somehow involved in her disappearance all those years ago, then we shall soon have evidence of that for I already have Jeremiah digging about the Bennets and I am sure you are aware of his reputation. That man is as tenacious as a bloodhound with a whiff of blood!" Mr Darcy took a deep, calming breath.

"Besides, do you not wish to check for yourself the veracity of my assertions? For all you know I could have been mistaken and..."

"As if you have not been most diligent in ascertaining her identity." Colonel Fitzwilliam scoffed.

"I have full faith in your judgement Darcy. Besides, how many women have you come across who are as spectacularly simlar in appearance to my mother as you claim? Unless you have recently inculcated as excellent an ability of melodramatic exaggeration as the Ladies of the ton, I have no reservations whatsover as to her being our little Lizzy."

"Still it will be prudent for you to accompany us on the morrow to Longbourn...No! Do not even think of paying a visit now! We do not want her to think of us as impolite lummox with a blatant disregard for propriety and scare her away. I know you are eager to meet her but it is beyond fashionable hours for a visit. Besides, Bingley does plans to call on the Bennets come morn." Mr Darcy explained patiently, taking in his cousin's displeased mien.

Apparently, his ire had not yet abated.

"And why does Bingley has such plans cousin?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked testily.

He was well acquainted with Bingley's propensity to get captivated with every pretty face and if Elizabeth was indeed a mirror image of their mother, who even now at the age of fifty was considered quite a beauty and was claimed to have left several hearts broken in her wake when she had married his father...

So help him God if Bingley so much as looked at his sister in an improper fashion, he will run him through!

"There is no need for you to plot his murder for Bingley has his eyes set on Miss Jane Bennet, Elizabeth's older sister."


	4. Chapter 4

My sincerest thanks to every reader who has read this story.

I have edited the first three chapters and tried to make them as free of mistakes as I possibly can.

Many readers have questioned me about **Elizabeth's scar,** and how it will not remain the same as she grows up and I agree. It will definitely change in size,shape and placement as she grows up, but not so drastically as to be unrecognizable. The changes in scars which are received due to a deep wound are minimal and very minor. I should know because I wrote about that scar as her mark of recognition as I have one in the exact same spot and shape as Elizabeth's since a very young age.

MGM, Elizabeth was three when she was kidnapped.

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 4: REPERCUSSION

With the advent of a new day Elizabeth's spirit rose. Never one to be gripped in the clutches of melancholy for long, she hummed softly whilst she traipsed through familiar trails atop the Oakham mountain, reveling in cool shades of trees.

She had always preferred the woods around the mountain for her morning ramble; those woods were her safe haven, ergo she had no qualms walking through them alone. However, that morn as she stopped to pluck some wildflowers for her sister Jane, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She looked around cautiously, feeling someone's eyes on her person but found no one in her vicinity. Dropping the flowers, she quickened her steps, eager to exit the shady thicket.

She was just a short distance away from the clearing, when someone threw a bag over her head. Strong arms grabbed her, twisting her arms mercilessly so that she cried out in pain, whilst dragging her back deeper in the woods. However, her assailant had not expected her to fight so strongly or to even possess such strength.

Elizabeth was dainty, her small stature and delicate features giving her quite an appearance of a fragile English rose. But, she was no weak damsel. Years of walking for hours through the rocky terrain of the countryside and doing most labourous chores on the estate as her punishment whenever Mrs Bennet was angry with her (which happened often enough), had made her strong and sturdy.

So she fought back with every ounce of strength she had. She twisted slightly and thrust her elbow backward, hitting her assailant's nose forcefully. Cursing, the man slapped her harshly in retaliation which left her ears ringing. She could taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth, as she struggled to draw in breath which became a daunting task for her assailant tightened the bag, his fingers digging in the soft skin of her neck painfully, and punched her forcefully, causing a sharp jolt of pain to radiate through her.

Panicked beyond her wits, Elizabeth kicked him viciously in his groin. The man let go of her with a howl of agony and she immediately pulled out the bag that covered her head, panting heavily. She was momentarily shocked into immobility as she clapped eyes on her assailant, a man whom she had known for years, but she did not tarry for long.

Elizabeth quickly spun around and ran for the clearing, unmindful of the branches that scratched her arms and face. She could hear her assailant following her, but she did not dare to look back.

Her petticoat was muddied, her gown torn and her hair fell down to her waist in angry snarls, matted with grime, leaves and sweat, having escaped the confines of her myriad pins.

As she ran down the slope towards Longbourn, she came upon three gentlemen coming around the corner on horseback.

She recognised the two of them immediately and stopped only when she stood right in front of them, her eyes filled with tears.

Darcy, Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam were on their way to call at Longbourn, when Elizabeth appeared before them. Darcy, whose mind was fixated on this very same person was startled to see her come running towards them in obvious distress.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was in no better frame of mind, as he gazed at the dishevelled young woman standing before them. Darcy had not exaggerated when he claimed that Elizabeth was an exact replica of his mother, except of course her hair and eyes. The resemblance was striking. Although, he had never imagined that he would be reunited with his sister in this fashion.

However, he was stunned into inaction only momentarily. His military training kicked in when he spied a man quickly running back to the obscurity of the woods when he saw them with Elizabeth.

"Stay here with Miss Elizabeth." He ordered his two companions and without delay, spurred his horse on.

Darcy hastily dismounted and was at her side in a moment.

"Miss Elizabeth, are you all right?" He asked concerned, despite the inanity of his question for he could see blood trickling down her lips which appeared to be torn and scratches on her person.

"I...I...Mr Barrows and I couldn't... Oh! I have known him for years...since I was just a child! How could he... he just.." She spluttered incoherently, as she valiantly tried to keep her tears at bay.

She was already mortified as it was owing to her wild appearance and she did not wish to further exacerbate it. She was ruined, compromised for even though she was the victim in the entire terrible ordeal, the Meryton society was sure to frown upon her for rambling around the countryside unchaperoned. They would not stop to consider their own hypocrisy before attaching a scandal to her name for except a few very well-off families, none at Hertfordshire could afford to spare a footman or a maid to chaperone the women of their family.

Moreover, she was also unfortunate enough to have a Mother and two sisters who competed with each other for the title of 'Silliest women in the kingdom'! Elizabeth had not even a flicker of doubt that by noon the entirety of Hertfordshire shall be acquainted with her shame. Even though she was sure that Mrs Bennet will surely make her life miserable for bringing shame to the family and come up with some ridiculous notion as to the culpability of Elizabeth in the attack, she will herself sing ballads of their ruination and the reason for it far and wide.

"...Pray tell us your troubles, Miss Elizabeth. What did that blackguard do?" Elizabeth was jolted out of her reverie by urgent voice of Mr Darcy.

"Please Miss Elizabeth you must tell us what has happened before the Colonel horsewhips him!" Mr Bingley said earnestly, his voice fraught with awkward concern.

Elizabeth looked towards the woods to find Colonel Fitzwilliam forcibly dragging Mr Barrows towards their small party. She shuddered and looked away.

"I was walking through the woods when he attacked me. He..he threw a bag over my head and tried to drag me somewhere. I barely managed to escape him by kicking him in the..." Elizabeth trailed off, colour hightening on her cheeks. She quickly averted her eyes from the two men in front of her, whilst she hastily tried to tie back her hair.

"You have acted very bravely Miss Elizabeth." Mr Darcy said clearing his throat awkwardly.

They waited for the Colonel to reach them with Mr Barrows, before starting for Longbourn. Not a word was spoken as they journeyed to her father's estate for she was too anguished, contemplating her fate whilst the men did not wish to further distress her.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was worried. As he dragged the cur who had dared to lay his hands on his sister, purposefully injuring him whenever the opportunity presented, he kept an eye on her. She looked so fragile and innocent, yet so strong as she struggled to maintain her composure and not to break down in front of them as she must surely wish to do.

He so wanted to rush to her, to ensure her well-being himself and comfort her just as he had always done before she was taken from them, but he had to be patient. After all, for all intents and purpose, he was a stranger to her. Such a reaction from him would surely scare her away! As it was, he was already ashamed to have lost his composure so spectacularly the night before. The news of recovery of his sister had stunned him, so much so that he had lost all rationality and behaved as fools are wont to do.

His years of military training, his intellect had been lost in front of his yearning to be reunited with his sister. But now he was past that moment of madness and he knew that utmost diligence was required to deal with this delicate situation that they now found themselves in and this attack on Elizabeth had further complicated the circumstances.

The front parlour, Longbourn

The atmosphere at Longbourn was dismal. Colonel Fitzwilliam gritted his teeth as he heard Mrs Bennet's lamentations of ruination that Elizabeth had brought upon them. She was vicious in maligning her character, which left no one in any doubt of the deep loathing she harboured for Elizabeth. Not even her husband was able to curb her tongue and the Colonel could not even bring himself to imagine the life his dear sister must have been subjected to in this house.

He had half a mind to disregard his upbringing to always behave respectfully towards a lady and give the ugly shrew a piece of his mind, a desire which was shared by his cousin by the look on his face, but he controlled it.

Immediately upon their arrival about an hour ago, pandemonium had gripped Longbourn. A young lady, whom Darcy had later introduced as Jane Bennet had descended on them with fury and protectiveness of Mama bear. She had immediately rushed Elizabeth to her chambers, calling for salves and clean linen. Another woman introduced as Miss Mary, had followed them,hot on their heels whilst Mr Bennet had asked someone to send for the doctor.

Mr Barrows was bound and gagged and situated in one of the rooms with a stableboy to keep an eye on him.

Bingley had volunteered to bring Sir William, the local Magistrate and had left promptly, leaving him and Darcy behind to deal with Mrs Bennet and her two youngest daughters who were just as silly and callous towards Elizabeth. Mr Bennet paced the parlour, unmindful of his wife's tirade and his daughter's insouciant twittering as they gibbered hogwash about Elizabeth and giggled coquettishly with coy glances at Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy, but that was changed soon.

"That ungrateful wench! We should never have taken in that _filth! Why that foul, dirty foundling..."_

"Fanny!" Mr Bennet roared, making the occupants of the room jump.

"For once in your life shut your mouth woman! I specifically _forbade_ you to mention that and you...Remove youself to your chamber and DO NOT COME OUT TILL I SAY SO. GO!" He spat, his face flushing a deep puce.

Mrs Bennet stared at her husband for a few moments, her eyes popped comically and her mouth wide open, before she obeyed him, skirting around him timidly. Lydia and Kitty stared at their father a few moments, before merrily resuming their gossiping, clearly excited on receiving this new piece of information.

Darcy was astounded. Although, he was thankful that Mrs Bennet's diatribe finally ceased for he was unsure that either his or the Colonel's already thinning patience would have lasted had the woman carried on with her vile words, he was mystified by Mr Bennet's reaction. It was not his reluctance to have his family's secret so unravelled in front of strangers that made him admonish his wife so severely, but a deep, animalistic fear which was apparent in his wild gaze and fierce countenance.

And from the grave expression on the Colonel's face, it was apparent that he too had drawn similar conclusion.

His instinct told him that Mr Bennet did have some information, a part in the elaborate façade that hid the truth.

Something was definitely afoot at Longbourn!

* * *

The day had progressed at a frustratingly slow pace with Mr Barrows refusing to utter a single word even to defend himself. Between himself and Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam finally persuaded Sir William to allow him to question the man come morn.

He had been in active service in military for years, ergo he was quite adept at making even the most hardened men talk. Colonel Fitzwilliam was determined to find the impetus behind the attack on Elizabeth. Something told him that the man had not attacked his sister just to sate his libido. Something much more sinister was afoot.

Thus, as soon as they had arrived back at Netherfield, after ensuring that Elizabeth was indeed well and recovering, Colonel Fitzwilliam strode purposefully to the study.

It was time to inform his father for if his conjecture was true, Elizabeth was in grave danger!


	5. Chapter 5

My sincerest thanks to every reader who has read this story. I am humbled by your response to this story. Your reviews make my day!

My special thanks to **Guest** , who is my strongest critic and one of the favourite reviewers. She teaches me something new with each update. And **m hill** for her kind words for my amateurish attempt.

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 5: COMPLICATIONS

Mr Barrows was frightened! He had failed abysmally. Not only had he failed to capture Miss Elizabeth, he had also gotten caught!

Although he had not confessed yet, he was well aware that his obstinacy will not last for long for come morn Colonel Fitzwilliam shall arrive to question him. As if his being a military man was not enough to induce fear, Mr Barrows had no delusion whatsoever that the Colonel will not take this opportunity to torment him, to make the inquisition as painful as possible.

After all he had injured the man's sister!

Sweat drenched his body and his limbs felt numb with terror.

He truly was in a wretched situation for he knew that even if by some miracle, he managed to be evasive, he will have to face the repercussions of his failure, if not by the Colonel's hands then by _his!_

Mr Barrows felt suffocated, as if his lungs were unable to draw breath. He tried to raise his hand to...do something, anything to sooth the uncomfortable heat that scorched his chest, but to no avail. His limbs were paralysed. Frightened, he attempted to call someone for help, but nothing came out of his mouth but a guttural, incoherent gurgle. The dingy cell shimmered eerily before the world went black.

* * *

Longbourn, Hertfordshire

Jane Bennet was worried. She was roused from her slumber mere moments ago by soft cries of distress coming from Elizabeth. She had immediately rushed to her sister's side and embraced her, smoothing her hair and cooing soothingly, just like she had always done since they were children.

She still remembered the day Elizabeth had arrived in Longbourn. The young girl had softly called her 'Sistah' when they were introduced and promptly held her hand. She had looked up at her, mischief lurking in her twinkling green eyes, whilst she sucked her thumb and for five year old Jane, that had been love at first sight.

That warm summer day had marked the beginning of a beautiful relationship, that was one of the very few reasons that Elizabeth had survived in the Bennet household for so many years, with a _Mother_ who left no stone unturned to break her spirit.

Oh how Jane had tried to curb her mother's callous behaviour towards Elizabeth, to persuade her to at least be kind to the younger girl but to no avail. It was only when Mama had caned Elizabeth severely for supposedly turning her own daughter against her, when Papa had been away on one of his rare trips to London for business, had Jane ceased her persistent championing of her sister.

Still she had not given up. Over the years, she had done everything to protect her sister from their mother's wrath; lying for her and taking blame for her mischief countless times for she knew that Mama will not punish her as severely as she did Elizabeth.

Owing to her gentle disposition and her inclination to see only good in the world- something which her sister found both exasperating and endearing- Jane had never understood the loathing that Mrs Bennet harboured for Elizabeth. She could never remember a time when Mama had been kind to her adopted daughter, something which her two youngest sisters had imbibed.

Even Papa who clearly favoured her sister, had not done anything about Mama, except to occassionally stop her from punishing Elizabeth, which was something that made Jane extremely resentful and frustrated.

"Shh Lizzy. You are safe. I am here!" She whispered repeatedly, calming her sister back to sleep.

It had always been Jane who had taken care of her,applied salves on her wounds and nursed her back to health whenever she was sick.

So even though she was only two years older than Elizabeth, she had always played a role of great prominence in her sister's life.

A Mother's.

* * *

Matlock House, London

Lord Henry Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock was ensconced numbly in his Library, staring unblinkingly at the letter that his youngest son had sent him in the hands of Darcy's footman. The man had refused to give the missive to anyone but him, as was ordered by both his son and nephew and that had both intrigued and concerned the Earl in equal measure.

A complex amalgam of emotions burnt in his chest fiercely, now that he had read the letter. Astonishment, disbelief, worry, but most prominent of all...sheer, unadulterated joy!

Thus, when his wife Lady Elienora found him, she was astounded to see such exaltation on her husband's mien the likes of which she had not seen in years.

"What is it Henry? What has happened?" She cried.

Hearing her voice, Lord Fitzwilliam quickly stood up and guided her to a seat. He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them tenderly.

"My darling, our daughter...our little Lizzy has been found!" He exclaimed, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, so profound was his relief and joy.

"Wh...what?" Lady Elienora whispered.

"After all this time?"

"Our nephew Darcy found her in Hertfordshire, where he is currently residing in the estate of that friend of his, Mr Bingley. A Mr Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire brought her into his family and raised her as his daughter. Although..." the Earl trailed off frowning, recalling that his son had discreetly hinted of possible involvement of Bennet in the disappearance of Elizabeth.

Owing to his son's circumspection in elaborating about 'certain queer events of import', as he put it and insistence that Elizabeth's identity be revealed and then she be removed to London, convinced him that Richard was being miserly with information. If the urgent tenor of his son's missive was anything to go by, then Lord Matlock was sure that his daughter was in danger.

Fearful of losing her again when they had just found her after years made him fiercely determined. Whoever was responsible for taking Elizabeth away from them shall neither hurt her again nor roam unpunished for long.

Lord Henry Fitzwiliam, the Earl of Matlock, will see to that!

* * *

Frenetic was the only word that could astutely describe the Matlock House that morn. Immediately after informing his wife, Lord Matlock had proceeded to impart the happy tidings to his eldest son, Harold, the Viscount Lynley who too had been most jubilant and relieved. Trunks were packed and carriage prepared for the journey in great haste.

Although the servants were not informed of the happy news for fear of spread of gossip which may alert the guilty and move them to desperate measures, they too revelled in this welcome festivity. After all, none of the staff except those who had remained in the Fitzwiliam's employment for years, had seen the family so happy. Even their usually reticent mistress was cheery, fluttering about the entire house, clearly impatient to be gone.

Lady Elienora was indeed in highest of spirits! The melancholy that always shrouded her was gone and the glorious smile on her face, left none in any doubt as to why the Lady was considered one of the beauties of the ton even at the age of fifty!

To come to know that her beolved daughter, her sweet Lizzy resembled her! Well, there was no end to her pride that morn! She had lost so many years with her child, but not for long for soon she will be reunited with her daughter and nothing shall pull them apart.

Lady Elienora Jean Cavendish Fitzwilliam, the Countess of Matlock will make sure of that!

* * *

Of all the news Harold Fitzwilliam had expected to hear when his father knocked on his chamber that morn (something he had not done in years!), the recovery of his little sister Elizabeth was certainly most unexpected but welcome nonetheless. He had missed her most keenly.

The first few years since she was taken from them were the hardest. To think that he will never see her, never bear witness to her glorious smile that lit the entire room, never be the unfortunate subject of her mischief was painful! He had feared for her, well aware of the evil that abounded in the world, the penchant of some men and women for causing suffering and pain to others. What were the chances of survival of an innocent little girl with no one to protect her in this cold, unfeeling world?

But the God had been most kind to his sister. Even though she had not grown in the lap of riches as was her due being the only daughter of an Earl, at least she had the respectable position of being a gentleman's daughter.

And now they had found her again...their little ray of sunshine! Their family will be whole again!

Lord Harold Fitzwilliam, the Viscount Lynley will make sure of that!

* * *

The atmosphere in Hertfordshire was a far cry from happiness and contentment that attended the Matlock House for that morn Mr Barrows accused of assaulting Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn was found cold and stiff, frothing from the mouth and clearly dead.

He was poisoned in the prison!

* * *

AN: Mr Barrows is poisoned with hemlock. I researched the symptoms of such poisoning and have described them in the chapter. Even the condition his corpse was found in has been penned down after research. I don't claim they are correct. I have only written what I found. If you know something contradictory, then please let me know.


	6. Chapter 6

I extend my sincerest thanks to every reader who has read this story.

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 6 : VENEER

Ireland, 1780

A nondescript carriage stopped in front of a cottage and a woman stepped down. Attired in a lovely gown of crimson, her sleek, raven hair perfectly coiffed, lips the colour of poinsettia and skin a soft peach, she was the very epitome of beauty. But for all her loveliness, there was something sinister in her person, the aura she exuded. It was evident in the perfect curve of her high cheekbones that were clenched in undeniable tension, and her azure eyes that were as hard as stone and as cold as ice as she stared straight ahead.

The cottage was beautiful, nestled in the midst of a verdant meadow which was most generously endowed by Nature. It looked like a painting, done lovingly by a Master with most brilliant hues.

The place was magical...enchanting, but not to her.

The woman glared at the scenic beauty with acute derision, and in that moment was born a solemnly firm resolve sealed with hatred and malice.

 _They shall pay!_

* * *

Netherfield park,1812

The atmosphere at Netherfield park was grim. The news of Barrows's death had spread through entirety Hertfordshire with the rapidity of forest fire. It had also been the damning evidence of Darcy's suspicion and Colonel Fitzwilliam's conjecture that Barrows had not attacked Elizabeth to slake his carnal hunger; the impetus had been much more sinister.

Someone did not want Elizabeth to know her true identity, her heritage desperately enough, that no lines were left uncrossed. Barrows's death had proven that.

However, the extent of the culprit's infiltration was alarming for someone had mixed poison in the soup that was served to the deceased for dinner. Apparently, their foe was not only one step ahead of them, but also right at their sides!

So, that was the root of worry for Darcy and the Colonel as they sat in the Library with Bingley in whom they had confided earlier. The morning had passed in a blur of chaotic thoughts and emotions.

Taking Bingley in their confidence, they had sought his help. Promptly, two of the strongest manservant at Netherfield park were dispatched to keep an eye on Longbourn. Then the Colonel, accompanied by Darcy and Bingley had met Sir William to be acquainted with what had actually transpired.

Apparently, the wildest of travesties and silliest of gossips were in circulation in Hertfordshire about how such a horrendous event came to be. Even though nothing was known of the culprit, it did not deter the enthusiasts who were zealous in their quest to solve the mystery.

"Sir William should have allowed me to question Barrows yesterday. The man apparently knew something to necessitate his disposal so hastily!" The Colonel said, pacing furiously.

"Given Sir William's geniality, I was unsure he would have permitted you to question Barrows even today. He abhors violence and you were sure to resort to it to get Barrows talking. How were we to know that the enemy is right under our nose?...However, I do have something which I daresay will interest you." Mr Darcy said, putting down the missive he was reading.

"What is it?"

"Jeremiah investigated the Bennet's social and financial background and has uncovered certain startling facts."

"Which are?"The Colonel asked intrigued.

"Some nine and ten years ago, a trust fund was set up in the name of one Miss Emily Sutherby for twenty thousand pounds, a portion of interest of which gets reinvested and the remaining- a sum of three hundred pounds goes to Mr Bennet's pocket annually. What is even more intriguing is that, Bennet started receiving this allowance eight and ten years ago - the exact year cousin Elizabeth disappeared."

"That rapscallion!" The Colonel spat.

"Jeremiah also writes that the legal papers naming the trustees have been misplaced. He is currently engaged in searching for them." Mr Darcy concluded.

"Sutherby...the name could be fake." Colonel Fitzwilliam mused.

"But would not the Bank first validate the details about..." Mr Bingley began bewildered, but was cut short by Mr Darcy.

"Money can make anything possible Bingley."

"We need to get Bennet talking. I cannot rest knowing Elizabeth is in danger, nor do I feel comfortable letting her stay in that house."

"Then perhaps we should..."

However, Mr Dacry did not get to complete his thought for at that moment a servant interrupted them, informing them of the arrival of the Fitzwilliams.

* * *

There was no end to Miss Bingley's pride and happiness when she came to know that an Earl and his family shall reside at Netherfield park.

 _Such an extraordinary company! Such a great honour! Oh how envious my friends will be._ She thought giddily as she watched the carriage roll to a stop.

She executed a perfect curtsy and warmly greeted the Earl and the Viscount with the impeccable manner of a gracious hostess. Then she turned towards the carriage where Lady Matlock was being helped out by a footman and stopped short.

Her eyes widened with disbelief and her mouth popped open in a most unbecoming fashion when she found almost an exact replica of that destitute country chit Eliza Bennet standing before her.

Miss Bingley fell in a decorous swoon.

* * *

Longbourn, Hertfordshire

The chaos that attended Longbourn was inevitable when the old estate was invaded by fine carriages and noble gentlemen in the company of Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

A flustered servant located the Master and Mistress to inform them of the extraordinary gathering that was soon to be inflicted on them. Sufficiently awed by the company they were to have, Mrs Bennet immediately ordered that tea be served in the best china and the guest be showed to the front parlour.

The Mistress of Longbourn hurried down the stairs behind her husband only to come upon an extraordinary sight for standing before them, staring in abject shock at each other were Elizabeth and a finely dressed Lady. However, what was more startling was the astute similarity of features that the two women shared. Had it not been for their hair- deep mahogany curls and sleek, flaxen locks respectively- and fine lines of age and maturity on the face of the older woman, they could have been sisters.

A choked sob finally dispersed the stifling silence that had descended in the parlour.

"Lizzy!" The older woman gasped and threw herself at Elizabeth, embracing her fiercely.

"My baby...my daughter. Oh how I have missed you! My Lizzy." The Lady blubbered like a litany.

Mr Thomas Bennet did not see the reunion of a Mother and Daughter in front of him, but his own downfall, his ruin. Even though he did adore Lizzy, his selfishness and love for himself far surpassed it. Driven to desperation, to deny the truth that stared him in the face, he roared.

"Unhand my daughter at once Madam. She is no child of yours!"

Lord Henry Fitzwilliam who had been unable to tear his eyes away from his daughter till now, remembered the other occupants of the room and rounded on Mr Bennet with raging fury, though outwardly he was perfectly composed.

"I will advise you to address my wife with deference." His voice was deceptively calm, so much so that only his family knew that Mr Bennet shall indeed dig his own grave if he was foolish enough to cross the Earl.

"My daughter's welfare..." The man began, displaying his apparent lack of wits.

"She is no daughter of yours, but mine. She is Lady Elizabeth Anne Fitzwilliam and nothing you say shall deny the truth." The Earl growled in a commanding voice which left none in any doubt as to the reason of the impressive clout he wielded in the House of Lords. He was indeed not a man to be trifled with.

"With all due respect sir, surely this is a mistake."

"Mistake you say! Then how can you explain the remarkable similarity between Elizabeth and my wife, her _mother?"_

" Surely it is a coincidence."

"This , _sir,_ is not a tale of some cheap novel. So let us be practical." Lord Matlock said sharply.

"Mr Bennet, I can address your reservations for if Elizabeth is indeed our long lost daughter, then she will have birthmarks that only I and the midwife know about." Lady Matlock said calmly, having gotten her bearings as her husband and Elizabeth's adoptive father parried, though she was yet to remove her tight grip on her daughter.

"Dear, will you be so kind as to show me to your chambers where we can have privacy. Maybe your elder sister can accompany us to judge the veracity of our claim." She addressed Elizabeth softly, whilst her eyes lingered on Jane.

She completely disregarded the uncouth hoyden who was her daughter's adoptive mother. Richard and Fitzwilliam had spared no detail in acquainting her with Mrs Bennet and her cruelty towards Elizabeth. Lady Elienora was not sure she could bear to even face the woman who treated her daughter so cruelly without doing something very unladylike.

She had also been made aware of the love and protectiveness Jane Bennet had for her daughter, which was evident in the young woman's eyes as she gazed at Elizabeth with concern. She was grateful that her daughter had someone to care for her in the Bennet household.

However, Mr Bennet, it seemed was not in agreement with the plan that she proposed for he tried to stop them.

"Now wait here a bit Madam..." He trailed off when he felt hands on his shoulders which forcefully shoved him aside to allow the ladies to go upstairs.

Apparently the Colonel had gotten too impatient with the man's snivelling.

Jane led the way to their chambers, with Elizabeth and Lady Matlock following in her wake. Mrs Bennet who had been shocked into blessed silence till now, followed them immediately. Still reeling from surprise that the girl whom she had so thoroughly abused and hated over the years was actually the daughter of a wealthy member of the peer, she was at a loss as to what to say.

So, as she was usually wont to do, she put a spectacular display of her lack of wits by dishing out inane flummery of Lady Matlock's exquisite attire and jewellery. The result was the burgeoning irritation of the said Lady who shut the door of the girls' chamber in Mrs Bennet's face.

The atmosphere in the front parlour was frosty to say the least. Mr Darcy and the Fitzwilliam men affixed Mr Bennet with intimidating stares, that spoke of undisguised hostility which further chafed the nerves of the Master of Longbourn.

A while later, the women finally emerged with a shocked Elizabeth moving woodenly in their tow. The life as she knew it had completely altered in a matter of few seconds and she was unable to comprehend the implication of it. She watched as if from a great distance as the glowing smile on Lady Matlock's face slowly got mirrored in the mien of her husband, sons and nephew. The Lady brought her forward gently.

"Please allow me to introduce you to Lady Elizabeth Anne Fitzwilliam." She cried, her voice laced with jubilation and Mr Bennet knew that his ruination was finally complete. Thus, he lashed out harshly.

"I refuse to believe it. She is no daughter of yours but an orphan; the child of a distant relative who..."

"That's ENOUGH Papa. I will put up with your lies no more! You as well as I know that we do not have any relatives except the Phillipses and that distant cousin of yours, Mr Collins. How long will you try to hide the truth?" Jane asked furiously, shocking her family with her verbosity and vitriol.

"You deceived me too! You told me that it was a necessary lie to protect Elizabeth's modesty and ensure her respectability for she was someone's _natural child._ And like the fool I was, I believed you when the only thing that you were protecting was _yourself_!..."

A loud smack echoed in the room as Mr Bennet slapped Jane so hard that she fell down.

"Jane!" Elizabeth cried and rushed to her sister's side.

His eyes glinting with a murderous rage, Mr Bennet raised his hand again with an intent to strike his eldest daughter, but was forcibly stopped.

Colonel Fitzwilliam grabbed his raised hand tightly whilst his brother, Lord Harold Fitzwilliam, the Viscount Lynley aimed a powerful punch at the older man's jaw

Thus, finally fulfilling his desperate desire to inflict some form of punishment on the man who had purposely kept his sister away from them for so many years!

* * *

AN : I hope you will enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. The Bennets had it coming. The next chapter will focus on Elizabeth because right now she is too shocked to process anything.


	7. Chapter 7

My sincerest thanks to all of you for showing interest in my humble attempt. I can never thank you enough.

 **Lady Mischief,** I hope this chapter helps to clear your doubts regarding the conversation that Elizabeth and Mr Darcy shared about Pemberley, Harold and Richard.

 **Guest,** as to your comment that Mrs Bennet is too harsh and the possibility that Elizabeth may not retain her spark after being subjected to it for years. I can only say that I have always felt that Mrs Bennet was abusive towards her even in Miss Austen's novel. While Jane and Lydia were adored, Kitty and Mary pretty much ignored, it was Elizabeth who bore brunt of her displeasure. Be it comparing her looks to Jane's, scolding her for her spirited attitude or trying to tie her to Mr Collins like a cattle to a post, so that she could retain Longbourn, she was always insensitive to her second eldest daughter. It was only when Elizabeth finally made an advantageous match, that Mrs Bennet had something positive to say to her. I have just portrayed her character, as I perceived it and perhaps took it up a notch.

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 7 : CONFESSION

Longbourn

Elizabeth was numb. As she walked in the garden of Longbourn, the one she and Jane had tended so lovingly, she felt strangely adrift. In a matter of few seconds, her fairly predictable life had changed so drastically that she was left flailing, completely out of her depth.

The night of Meryton Assembly, when Mr Darcy had first laid his eyes on her, had struck as odd to her. Even though she had pretended to be ignorant, she had felt his eyes following her the entire night. Although Elizabeth had garnered her fair share of attention from men over the years, for the life of her she could not imagine how she had captured that particular gentleman's interest.

He was taciturn and cold, even coming across as rude to many people who were offended that he had neither attempted to converse with them, nor answered their queries in more than one syllable. Yet, whenever she had caught Mr Darcy's eyes, they had contained nothing but warmth.

Then later that night, he had asked her for a dance and she had eagerly consented. She had wished to unravel the enigma that was Mr Darcy, but he had only managed to further confound her.

The man who had barely said more than two words whilst conversing with other people at the Assembly, was suddenly verbose. He had described with great affection his estate, Pemberley, claimed to be one of the finest in the kingdom. He had told her of his family, describing them in detail and throughout his narrative the strangest of feelings had risen in her chest.

A persistent niggling, a feeling of belongingness and familiarity had lurked in her subconscious and Elizabeth did not know what possessed her to simply blurt out those words. She had inadvertently called Pemberley, 'Pemblee' and immediately apologised for her mispronounciation.

However, her shame had been complete, or so she thought at that time when she had simply mumbled 'Harry and Richie' when Mr Darcy had described his cousins. Thankfully, at that precise moment the dance had ended and she had fled his company as soon as it was politely possible.

She had been sure Mr Darcy perceived her to be fit for Bedlam!

But now she realized what that conversation was truly about. He was testing her, ensuring beyond a flicker of doubt that she was indeed his cousin and she had passed it quite easily.

Elizabeth sighed and gazed ambivalently at the house that she had resided in for years. She could not call it home for _home_ was where one had love and warmth, not abuse and ill will. She was moving out today; Jane and Lady Matlock herself were packing her trunks. Her elder sister, who perhaps knew her better than she did herself had shooed her away, recognising her desire to take a walk to clear her mind.

However, her father (she felt awkward even in her thoughts to address Lord Matlock as such) had requested her to not to leave the confines of Longbourn and to remain in sight at all time. She had naturally conceded, the memories of the assault on her person still too raw.

However, in his manners, Elizabeth had sensed a genuine worry, much more intense than simple fatherly concern. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that the Earl was being cautious only because of the gathering darkness, something told her that things were not as simple as they seemed. But she had decided to ignore it for the time being as it was not the most opportune time to question.

After Harold, as he had requested she call him, had punched her adoptive father, pandemonium had gripped Longbourn. With a cry of horror, Mrs Bennet had promptly fainted and could not be roused even with her smelling salt. Not that they had tried too sincerely. They all wished to protect their eardrums after all.

Lydia and Kitty had been hysterical, the resemblance between them and Mrs Fanny Bennet, uncanny. Colour rising on her cheeks, Mary had immediately escorted them to their chambers, calling for tea to be sent to them.

Having recovered from her shock when Mr Bennet had struck her, Jane had called for help to situate Mrs Bennet in her chambers.

Before hauling Mr Bennet to his Library for further questioning, the Earl had asked Elizabeth to move in with them at Netherfield till the arrangements were made for their journey back to London. He had not minced words in letting her know that he did not trust her adoptive father one whit and even strongly hinted of his involvement in her disappearance all those years ago.

Shocked with this information and feeling betrayed for she had held genuine affection for Mr Bennet, Elizabeth had nodded in agreement. It seemed that it was not only her life that had changed permanently, but also the people she thought she knew, except Jane.

Noticing Elizabeth's melancholic gaze on her sister, Lady Matlock had told her that it was not just she who was coming with them, but her elder sister too. Blushing, Jane had protested but was easily overruled.

Lady Matlock had adamantly refused to allow her to stay in the same house with 'the delinquent who called himself their father', as she put it, who had already hurt her. Finally when the Earl had joined the fray to convince her, Jane had conceded.

Her agreement was met with the foulest of imprecations, that could make even sailors blush, from Mr Bennet which had moved her sister to tears. Shocked, Elizabeth had stared at her adoptive father, unable to assilmilate his cruelty with the warmth and affection of the man who had taught her to climb trees and inculcated a deep love for written words in her.

Needless to say the men had hauled him up the stairs to get him away from the distraught woman. They had been cooped up in the Library since then.

Suddenly desperate to be not left alone with only her tumultuous thoughts for company, Elizabeth turned around and retraced her steps to the house beneath the starlit sky.

* * *

Mr Bennet glared balefully at the men surrounding him. His jaw was still aching due to the Viscount's punch and he felt exceedingly bitter on being treated so roughly in his own house.

God forbid, if one of the servants had seen the entire debacle, it will not be long before the entirety of Hertfordshire shall be aquainted with his shame. Thus, despite his fear for his dark future that he could see ahead of him for trifling with the family of an Earl, he revelled in the pleasure of frustrating them by not answering their questions.

However, his stoicism did not last for long as Lord Matlock's patience finally ended.

The man banged his fist on the table and stood up, towering over him, his eyes spitting fire.

"Either you answer our questions Bennet or I will not stop till you reach the gallows." He said thunderously and Mr Bennet gulped.

The man was in earnest and the darkness on his mien frightened the Master of Longbourn. He had enough intellect to realize when the field of battle did not even exist.

"I will ask only this once. Why did you kidnap my daughter?"

"I did not kidnap your daughter. I had neither means nor any motivation to pull off something so... dastardly as kidnapping the daughter of a peer." Mr Bennet said stoically.

"Then how come she ended up here?" Mr Darcy queried and the Master of Longbourn felt a sharp flare of bitterness.

This was the man who had brought his downfall. Only two months had remained after which he would have been free of the shackles that had ensnared him since past eight and ten years. Even though he would have missed Elizabeth, his relief on being finally free would have overcome any lingering sadness at the separation. But things had not turned out well for him.

 _They never did._ His thoughts were caustic.

"Elizabeth was given to us as atonement of my mistakes. About eight and ten years prior, I had fallen into vice of gambling. The occassional indulgence became an addiction. During one of my trips to London, I made quite a fortune. I was blinded by my greed and behaved recklessly. Eager to make more money and over confident as to my abilities owing to my previous win, I gambled a large amount and lost. Due to my own stupidity, I had incurred a huge debt of seven thousand pounds with no means of making payment. I just had this estate which too was entailed, and no possession which could get me such a hefty amount.

I was desperate so I did not think twice when I accepted the offer of a gentleman, a Mr James Morton, who was sat at the same table. He promised to buy my debts if I aided him in an important task. He had me at point non-plus, so I accepted. A few days later, Elizabeth was delivered to us, with my _task_ being to keep her hidden. I knew not her identity or even where she came from and she was too young to tell me anything substantial of her family that could help me in locating them.

So, as directed, I raised her as my own for which I was paid an annual sum of three hundred pounds; the additional income further strengthening my resolve to carry on as I was expected to. Besides, I was afraid of what that man might do if I defied him, for every month came a missive from London, containing threats. The man did not mince words in letting me know the hell he shall turn my life into if I failed to carry out his order." Mr Bennet paused.

"Where are those letters?" The Colonel asked sharply.

"Burnt, as he directed me to."

"Convenient." The Viscount scoffed.

"Although, I made their copies." Mr Bennet offered and directed them to the placement of particularly bulky Latin tomes behind which he had stored the letters in a small box. Mr Darcy hurried to retrieve them.

"What did those letters say?" Lord Matlock queried.

"Threats to keep Elizabeth hidden, to confine her to the limited society of Meryton. Our lack of funds has indeed been fortuitous in keeping her away from the ton. She has not been to London since she grew up despite my brother Gardiner's constant invitation, it was all supposed to end in two months." He sighed. He was already resigned to his fate, whatever it maybe, so he may as well give them everything.

"What do you mean?" The Colonel asked sharply.

"In his last letter, the man had informed me that in two months time- on the day Elizabeth turns one and twenty, she shall be retrieved from Longbourn for forever."

This last piece of information was met with silence.

* * *

Later that night, as he watched the stately carriages disappear in the darkness on their way to Netherfield park, Mr Bennet suddenly wondered if he will ever see his two eldest, most sensible daughters again.

In a remote part of his brain, he regretted hitting Jane so harshly, but it was only a very small part as the fear and uncertainty of his future intimidated him. After all, the writer of the letters had never left him in any doubt that he would surely destroy him for his failure. Now, due to his own folly, Mr Bennet had also managed to enrage a powerful member of the peer who could indeed send him to gallows for the crime he had committed against his family.

The Master of Longbourn cursed the day he had started gambling...he rued letting his silly wife talk him into continuing with that vicious vice that heralded his ruination.

But he has made his bed and now he must sleep in it!


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you for reading my story. You guys have been more than kind.

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 8 : VICE

London, 1779

She had always known that she was meant for great things.

Having grown up _under the protection_ of a father who ran his house with an iron fist and indulged in every possible nefarious vice, she had never had control over her own life. She was beautiful, the kind of beauty that made people stop and look twice, thus, she was her father's pride.

Even when she had been on the precipice of womanhood with barely developed _womanly assets_ , her beauty had shone like a beacon. Her father had raised her like a horse, a fine stallion to be sold to the highest bidder to improve his standing and perhaps enrich his non-existent coffers. After all, he needed something to go on with, having squandered all their fortune on horse racing, gambling and prostitutes. For that, she had loathed him with her very being.

When she had turned eight and ten, at her father's behest and charity of a distant Aunt, she had entered the ton. Her advent had been unremarkable, nothing like the debut of most ladies of the ton. Owing to her father's proclivities and their destitution, she did not even have a debut worthy of a young lady of her station.

So, she just had her beauty to ensnare a rich husband. She had never borne witness to such riches as the wealthy and influential of London had. The exquisite gowns of finest silk, priceless jewllery, expensive gems, stately carriages and sprawling Mansions. She had been awed, intimidated by everything at first, but not for long.

She was enamoured with the life of the rich. Never having to worry about food and basic amenities, having, what seemed like endless funds to cater to their every whim, no matter how expensive. Oh, to have a life like that!

It did not take her much to realize the control she had over men. They were drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She knew it was her beauty that enchanted them. With so little on her part, a smile here, a touch there, they were captivated by her; hung on her every word, flirted with her and fell over their own feet to gain her favour.

The Aunt whose charity was the reason she was brushing shoulders with wealthy and influential of the ton was too old and too interested in gossip to pay her ward any mind.

So, that season, she had enjoyed to her heart's content. It had also been the first time she was introduced to the pleasure of flesh. She did not remember him, whoever he was. She just remembered that he was extremely rich and she had brought him to his knees, begging and aching for more.

That had been her first taste of power, the start of an obsession with control, which was an addictive pleasure the likes of which she had never known. She revelled in the control that she, a destitute daughter of a lowly Baron with negligent connection and nonexistent dowry, had on the Dukes and Earls, the Viscounts and Marquess, when she allowed them in her bed.

She had no qualms in accepting the proposition of even married men. As long as they were wealthy enough to indulge her whims, her taste for expensive jewllery and baubles, she never turned them away. She was more or less a lady of the night without the stigma of courtesan attached to her name and she saw nothing wrong with it.

After having spent eight and ten years, supressing her every desire, she saw no reason to exercise control in that _department._ Her abilities were legendary so much so that betting books were maintained in the White's to wager on who would grace her bed next.

It had been in that pleasurable stage of her life that she first met _him._

He was the scion of a very rich and powerful family of the peerage which wielded an impressive clout in the ton. He was the only son of an Earl, his heir.

Just as most young men with endless fortune at their disposal are wont to do, he was absolutely _wild!_ He was also the first man whom she had chased, not the other way round. He was handsome, powerful, passionate and most importantly, incredibly wealthy, and in him, for the first time, not only had she found her alter ego, but also the _catch_ with whom she could see herself settling.

Thus, began their torrid affair which continued nearly for a year. In that time, she had finally broken her relation with her father, feeding him some lies that she was eloping with some man, whom she had met in one of the balls, through a letter. Her father had neither connections nor resources to search for her, or even to investigate the veracity of her claim, so she was safe in that front.

Her Viscount had then set her up in one of his properties, a sprawling, expansive estate for their assignation. Thus, began her mission to ensnare him, to bind him to herself with a cold precision for she had decided that she wanted him as her _husband!_

But he had been careful...too careful, and she had been kept busy with her machinations for the better part of the year, until she finally succeeded. She became with a child.

When she had imparted the news of his impending fatherhood, her Viscount had paled and then became furious when she had insisted on their marriage. It was then she had come to know that he was betrothed to another.

A well-dowered heiress, a daughter of a powerful peer. Everything she was not.

They had quarrelled fiercely. She had threatened to disclose his identity as the father of her unborn babe and give over the letters he had sent her, to be printed in the Times. The resulting scandal would not only end his betrothal, but also quite possibly the life of his ailing father, who if rumours were to be believed, was on his deathbed.

She had felt a cold pleasure in watching his eyes widen in shock. Apparently, he had not expected her to be capable of such deviousness, but she had known nothing but callousness could aid in attainment of goals; had learned it since she was a child. She was determined to be his wife, a Viscountess and if God allowed it, a Countess in near future.

That thought had caused her unparalleled happiness and contentment. Her Viscount had left without a word and she had been sure that he would return to her soon enough with a proposal. So sure...

That was the night which brought her downfall...the night which had changed everything!

* * *

Netherfield park, 1812

The dinner that night was a subdued affair. Although, the Fitzwilliams were jubilant on getting Elizabeth back, they respected her need to adjust, to get over the surprises that the day had thrown her way. After all, the life as she knew it had changed drastically in just a few hours.

Even Miss Bingley who would have been fawning over such a company, the high and mighty of the first circle of the ton, was silent. She quitely nursed the terrible wound that had been inflicted on her.

To think that savage Eliza and through her, that equally deplorable Jane were above her station was practically ignominious! It will surely take a long time, if not forever for her to get over this unfortunate discovery.

As soon as the dinner ended, both Elizabeth and Jane excused themselves. The Countess gave her new found daughter a loving kiss on her forehead and a smile to her sister before letting them go.

Exhausted after the terribly exciting day, the residents of Netherfield retired to their chambers early that night.

* * *

Lady Elienora Fitzwilliam prayed softly, thanking the Almighty for the recovery of her beloved daughter. It was such a relief to have her returned to her safe and sound.

For past eight and ten years, not a day had gone by when she had not worried for her. She had been afraid, terrified of the suffering and pain her child might endure, alone and at the mercy of strangers. She had prayed daily for the safety of her child, begging for her Elizabeth's wellbeing and...that her innocent daughter not be punished for her crimes.

Lady Matlock had always wondered if the entire ordeal was her getting her comeuppance. The pain she had endured on being separated from Elizabeth, her punishment for her sin.

While she did not regret taking the life of that _damned hoyden,_ a heavy burden had taken refuge in the deepest part of her heart that regretted ending that other innocent life.

But she had been blind with rage and jealousy. Even though her family had thought that she had no knowledge of the entire debacle, that they had protected her delicate sensibilities, she had _known._

She had conspired, concocted a ghastly, flawless plan of murder. And she had succeeded. Nobody had suspected her for she was not supposed to know about it in the first place.

Lady Elienora Jean Cavendish Fitzwilliam, had destroyed the woman who had tried to take the place that was rightfully hers. The place which had been hers since the day she had first realized her love for him.

Her last act of revenge had been marrying Lord Henry Fitzwilliam, the love of her life on the day _she_ had died.

* * *

Elizabeth slipped in the Library quitely. Unable to sleep, she had decided to find a book to occupy her mind.

Due to the lateness of hour, she had assumed that she was the only inhabitant of the house who was awake, so she was sufficiently surprised to find Mr Darcy, sitting in the Library, reading a book.

"Oh excuse me Mr Darcy. I did not wish to disturb you." She murmured softly, when the man acknowledged her presence.

"Please call me William, Lady Elizabeth. We are cousins after all." Mr Darcy said respectfully.

"Then it is only right that you call me by my given name too." Elizabeth said softly.

Mr Darcy watched her avidly as she excused herself to search for a book, her delicate fingers trailed across their spine. Despite her pretence at bravado, he could sense a great vulnerability in her. Her shoulders were slightly slumped and she exuded a general air of fatigue which had nothing to do with the weariness of body.

"Elizabeth are you alright?" Mr Darcy asked softly and Elizabeth knew he was not enquiring just out of politeness.

He was genuinely worried for her.

"I am as well as I can be given the circumstances Mr Dar...William." She answered honestly.

Mr Darcy saw melancholy dim her vibrant green eyes, and felt a great desire to comfort her in any way he can.

"I cannot fathom what you must be going through Elizabeth, to have your life alter so dramatically in a matter of few hours. However, as inane as it sounds, this time shall pass. Our family loves you deeply, and I can assure you that we shall all endeavour to make this transition as smooth as possible. We will all be there for you...I will be there for you, no matter what. You are not alone, and you never will be." He said gently, trying to sooth the worries that she was sure to feel for her future.

He recognised her need for comfort.

"Thank you William." Elizabeth whispered, smiling gratefully at him. She came to respect him more for the kindness he had shown to her.

She excused herself then, taking her chosen book with her, leaving him to his thoughts.

Mr Darcy sighed. He knew that they had difficult times ahead of them. But they will get past it, overcome the obstacles that they were sure to encounter after the events of past few days...or so he fervently hoped.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for showing interest in my stories guys. Here is the next update.

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 9 : REMEMBRANCE

London, 1780

"Do not be a fool Elienora! Can you watch the man you have loved for so long, be with that _whore!_ Will you be able to bear it if after your marriage, he still graces her bed?" The woman spat.

"So what can I do? Besides, Is she not getting banished to Ireland?" Lady Elienora Cavendish cried.

"And how long do you think will it take for Henry to bring her back? After all, her abilities in bed are legendary and she is to birth his child. What right will you have to stop your husband from having her? If you do not do anything, that woman will snatch him away from you and then, you will be nothing but a means to achieve an end, to get an heir while she will command his _love."_

Lady Elienora wringed her hand in frustration.

"What do you suggest I do?"

"Kill her and that bastard in her womb."

"What? Have you taken leave of your senses!" She spluttered, horrified.

"If not for yourself, then think of any children you may have in future. They shall grown in the shadow of that bastard. Your children will be teased and laughed at by their peer for such matter cannot be hidden for long." After a long pause the older woman pulled out a small bottle and gave it to Lady Elienora.

"Here take this. Just two spoons shall be enough, both for her and the babe. The choice is yours." And with that the older woman swept out of the room imperiously, leaving a confused and slightly frightened Lady Elienora in her wake.

* * *

Netherfield park, 1812

Lord Henry Fitzwilliam was perplexed. As he read the missive that Darcy's attorney, Jeremiah had sent him again, he could not help but feel a strange familiarity with the name of the woman in whose name the trust fund was set up.

As far as he knew, there was none in his aquaintance by the name Sutherby, yet that persistent niggling simply refused to go away. He felt as if he should _know, remember_ her, the woman Emily Sutherby but he did not.

"Darling, what is it?" Lady Elienora asked, when she found him scowling at the innocuous piece of parchment fiercely.

"Elienora, do we know anyone by the name Sutherby?" He

"As far I know, no. Why do you ask?"

"There is this name. The trust fund from where Mr Bennet was getting money, was set up for a Miss Emily Sutherby and I have the strangest feeling. As if I ought to know her, remember her whoever she is and..."

But Lady Matlock did not hear as her husband carried on in the same vein, venting out his frustration. Her mind was stuck on that name, repeating it like a litany.

The name she had not heard in past two and thirty years!

* * *

"No Richard. I do not ride. I rather trust my own two feet with my safety than a volatile beast." Elizabeth explained softly, not wishing to offer more.

They were sat in Mr Darcy's 's carriage en route to London. The Matlocks were following behind them in their own. The Colonel, the Viscount and Mr Darcy had sacrificed riding their respective horses to London in favour of the sisters' company.

It was general consensus that Elizabeth be removed to London at the earliest for after Barrows's murder, there was no saying she would not be the next target. They knew not whether the murderer was still in Hertfordshire or had left the area, but they did not wish to take any chances with her safety. They had just gotten her back, and had no wish whatsoever to part from her any time soon.

So, they had left behind two manservants to keep an eyes on the Bennets. They will be dealt with properly along with others who were involved in kidnapping Elizabeth once the entire mystery was unravelled. They did not wish to act in haste.

"That is putting it mildly. Elizabeth would not go near a horse with a long pole." Jane teased softly.

"And why is that, Miss Bennet." The Viscount asked.

"Oh, initially she used to get rather excited on seeing a horse. However, daring as she was, she tried to mount Papa's stallion when she was five years old. How she snuck in the stables, I do not know. But, this little imp, in her attempt to mount, _no conquer,_ that beast quite agitated him. He reared on his feet and would have seriously hurt her, had the stableboy not gotten her out of the way. She gave all of us quite a fright! And that poor stableboy, he was so red in the face, when he came to tell Papa." Jane shook her head.

"Needless to say, since then our dear Lizzy has not gathered the courage to attempt to _conquer_ another horse."

The others laughed softly whilst Elizabeth turned red. It had continued in this fashion for quite sometime. It seemed her new found family was eager to know everything about her life, no matter how mundane or inconsequential.

"She sounds like she was a troublesome child."

"That she was. I still remember the time she climbed up a tree in our garden back at Longbourn to avoid wearing a pink dress. Lizzy hates that colour with a passion and has always done so. I begged for her to come down before she hurt herself, but to no avail. Finally, Papa had to leave his beloved Library to rescue her and then Mama..." Jane stopped suddenly and blushed.

She was absolutely mortified with the treatment Elizabeth had received at Longbourn. An awkward silence prevailed. They knew not what to say to dispel the tense atmosphere.

Elizabeth stared determinedly out of the window, unwilling to look any of them in the eyes. She knew she would find nothing but pity and anger in their gaze and she did not want that.

Mr Darcy, who was seated beside her, could tell just how tense she was. He knew she did not wish for their pity for she was too strong and too proud. However, he did not want her to be melancholic the entire journey. God knows, she had faced enough sadness to last a lifetime. Besides, she had a beautiful smile and even more enchanting laugh.

So, he gently grasped her hand that lay in her lap and opened her little fist. He took her gloved hand in his and gently sqeezed it.

And even though Elizabeth continued to look outside, he could see her cheeks lifted in a smile and felt her squeeze his hand back.

Unbeknownst to them, Colonel Fitzwilliam was observing them with a slight frown on his face.

He will have to keep an eye on them.


	10. Chapter 10

A million thanks for your continued love and support. I am simply speechless!

Thanks for pointing out the discrepancy in date. It was a typo which is now removed. The actual year was 1780.

 **As for those missing words, it is some technical snag. I read my chapter at least twice before updating and once again in the preview. Those words were there then, however it was only after I published the chapter that they were removed. This has happened earlier too and needless to say, is irritating the hell out of me. If you have some solution, then kindly let me know.**

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

Dovedale, 1791

The man exited the carriage and swiftly entered the dilapidated old structure to avoid getting the bundle he clutched in his hands, wet. The velvet blackness inside was barely dispelled by the flickering flame of a candle that was held by the woman he was supposed to meet.

However, he deliberately stood in the shadow cast by a pillar so that his face was barely discernable.

"Here it is, your promised six hundred pounds. There is also some laudanum in this bag. Do what you must, but get that babe out of there." The man said, thrusting the bundle in the woman's arms.

"I am taking such a big risk. What if..." The woman trailed off, her eyes riveted to the silver of the sword that the man had withdrawn and she gulped audibly.

"Do your job first and _then_ open your mouth for more money. Not a word before and do not dare to attempt anything cunning. You know the consequences." The man growled, setting the blade of his sword against the woman's neck and pressing ever so slightly.

The blade broke through the delicate membrane and blood trickled down.

"Please, I will do anything!" The woman whimpered, absolutely terrified.

"See that you do so." The man nodded in satisfaction and walked away.

* * *

Chatsworth, 1791

Lord Harold Fitzwilliam, the Viscount Lynley was perplexed. He watched quitely as the wet nurse clutched his five months old sister tightly and slowly made her way downstairs.

It was quite late in the night and it seemed that all inhabitants of the great estate were asleep. He too had been on his way to his chambers from the Library when he had come upon this scene and stopped short. Something about the woman's demeanour alarmed him. She was walking slowly, carefully, keeping to the shadows almost as if she did not wish to be seen.

As quitely as possible, the Viscount followed her until she advanced towards the servants' quarters.

"Where are you going?" He asked and saw the woman start violently.

The wet nurse quickly turned around and dropped in a curtsy.

"I...I just had to retrieve something from my quarters, My Lord, and I did not wish to leave Lady Elizabeth alone." She replied breathlessly.

Her excuse was innocent enough. However, the wild look in her eyes struck the Viscount. His instincts told him that the woman was not to be trusted with his sister.

"Give me my sister." He commanded, raising his arms.

"Oh no, My Lord! I would not wish to..."

"Do it!" Lord Harold cut her off in a voice that brooked no argument. Reluctantly, the woman handed him the babe and after dropping into a curtsy once more, went to her quarters.

The Viscount stationed a footman near the servants' quarter and took his sister to his chambers.

"Sleep well, sweet Lizzy. Brother is here." He cooed softly, patting her chest when she startled slightly as he laid her down on his bed.

The next morning, after a thorough enquiry by a stern Lord Matlock, the wet nurse was discharged from her duty.

The woman was terrified of the fate that shall surely befall her, if she admitted to being paid for kidnapping Lady Elizabeth. Thus, she dared not utter a word. However, her reticence did not pay.

A few days later, her corpse was found in the woods near Dovedale by a Woodcutter, mangled beyond recognition. The wet nurse paid the price of her failure with her life!

* * *

London, 1812

Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were ensconced in the office of Mr Jeremiah Edwards, discussing his new findings. After a thorough search, Mr Edwards had finally unearthed the legal papers pertaining to the trust fund that was set up in the name of Miss Emily Sutherby.

"A Mrs Esmeralda Caruther, Mr Jerome Rathbone and Mr James Morton are enlisted as the trustees."Mr Edwards explained, handing over the papers to them.

"James Morton? He is the same man whom Mr Bennet named as the one who bought his debts." The Colonel cried.

"Yes, but what of the other two. I am sure that they too were somehow involved in Elizabeth's disappearance." Mr Darcy enquired.

"I did search them. I sent my men to the respective address of these trustees,as was enlisted in the Bank records. Unfortunately, Mr Morton died in a riding accident a decade ago and Mr Rathbone is believed to have left the country for India."

"And what of this Mrs Caruther?"

"No information. Hers is an address of a house in Cheapside which has been shut for years. No body knows as to who owns it. However, there is an interesting development." Mr Edwards said, leaning back in his chair.

"What?"

"The date of maturity of the trust fund is approaching- the exact date that you have told me is Lady Elizabeth's birthday." He said slowly, letting his words sink.

* * *

The Matlock House, 1812

"Caughey, is there anyone in my aquaintance by the name Sutherby...an Emily Sutherby?" Lord Matlock asked his steward.

The man had been with him for more than three decades, having taken up the responsibility when Lord Matlock had still been a Viscount. He was extremely sharp and had an eidetic memory.

Surely, he must know this Sutherby. Lord Matlock thought absently, hoping to have an answer to that irritating feeling of familiarity that had so troubled him ever since he had come across the name.

Mr Caughey froze at his employer's impromptu question, remembering exactly who she was.

"My Lord she...its _her!"_ The poor steward stuttered nervously.

"Do not speak in riddles Caughey. Who is she? Do you know her? Do _I_ know her?" Lord Matlock asked sharply.

Mr Caughey wiped the sweat that beaded on his brow and coughed awkwardly.

"Ophelia Williams, Serena Wilmanson, Sylvia Dali, Emily Sutherby...these all were the monikers of...of The Honourable Miss Frederica Colton, the daughter of Baron Colton of Nettlestone. Your...mistress, My Lord." He whispered, terrified.

Lord Henry Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock froze. His face paled and eyes widened in shock as he remembered... he _finally_ remembered!

* * *

Hertfordshire, 1812

Sir William, the Magistrate sat down to pen a missive to Colonel Fitzwilliam, to inform him about the recent developments. He had promised the man to let him know if the Cook, who was responsible for preparing food for the Prisoners, confessed anything of consequence.

He had a feeling that the good Colonel will find her confession and the person she had named, rather interesting.


	11. Chapter 11

I extend my sincerest thanks to every reader who has read this story.

 **AN:** I have started penning down another P&P story, **The Ward**. I have already posted 3 chapters.I will post both my stories alternatively.

 **Guest, ** your inference of timeline of the story is correct, except on two fronts:

1\. Lady Matlock was influenced to give poison to Matlock's mistress, Frederica in **1780.**

2\. Harold and Richard are Elizabeth's brothers, not cousins.

I hope this clears your doubt.

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 11 : INTRODUCTION

Matlock House, London

"Georgiana, may I present you your cousin, Lady Elizabeth Fitzwilliam and her sister Miss Jane Bennet. Elizabeth, Jane this is Miss Georgiana Darcy." Lady Matlock introduced jovially.

She enjoyed watching her niece's astonishment as she gaped at Elizabeth. Indeed, the striking resemblance between Mother and Daughter had generated its fair share of bemusement and stupefaction.

Elizabeth smiled and curtsied in greeting, which seemed to remind Miss Darcy of her own manners for she too hastened to greet her, blushing furiously.

"Miss Darcy, I have heard of your proficiency on the pianoforte from both William and Richard. Can I tempt you to play something?" Elizabeth asked warmly to ease the lingering embarassment and nervousness of her cousin. She could also sense a general air of sadness that the girl exuded and was curious about it, though she decided not to question it.

"I...Oh, very well." Miss Darcy agreed self consciously on seeing her aunt nod in agreement.

The ladies had a lovely time, indulging in music. Even Lady Matlock could not hold herself from playing an aria. It did not take much long for Miss Darcy to become comfortable around Jane and Elizabeth, owing to their kind disposition.

"It is her way, Georgiana. Elizabeth does play very well and also possesses a pleasing voice." Lady Matlock said proudly when her daughter dismissed her musical capabilities as amateurish.

Elizabeth blushed furiously, having seldom been on the receiving end of such warm compliment, mingled with pride and adoration. Indeed, having a mother who adored her and catered to her every wish, was a new experience for her which she was admittedly enjoying.

"Then, I insist that you play for us Elizabeth." Georgiana said with the same stubbornness that the Darcys were known for. They had long since dispensed with the formal titles in favour of their given name.

"Fine, if you are so insistent, then I shall entertain you with my nonexistent musical prowess." Elizabeth said dramatically, and settled down to play.

* * *

Discordant tunes and playful giggling greeted Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy on their return from Mr Edwards's office. Curious, they advanced towards the parlour from whence the merry sound came. For a moment they stood in the doorway, mouths agape as they watched Georgiana burst into peals of laughter and nearly fall off the bench that she shared with Elizabeth and Jane, as the former played another horrible tune. Lady Matlock herself was ensconced on a nearby chaise, laughing with the young ladies indulgently.

Finally, Colonel Fitzwilliam gathered his wits and teased Elizabeth.

"For the life of me, I have never had the misfortune of hearing something which so keenly sounds like a dying cat."

"It is an extraordinary talent, brother, that many lack." Elizabeth retorted, her eyes twinkling with amusement, before they shifted to his silent companion and she flushed. She immediately dropped her gaze to the pianoforte.

The Colonel frowned and turned to look at Darcy. His cousin was staring at Elizabeth with a strange intensity in his dark eyes. However, there was no denying the admiration reflected in his gaze. The Colonel's suspicion regarding Darcy and Elizabeth was getting confirmed at a much faster pace than he preferred. It was evident, beyond a shadow of doubt that his cousin did hold his sister in some regard and that the feeling was perhaps reciprocated.

Although, he was very well aware that Darcy was an honourable man and was a perfect match for his sister in every way, he was still loath to entertain any thoughts of losing his sister to matrimony, so soon after he had gotten her again. So, he acted as peevishly as a child is wont to do on losing his favourite toy.

The Colonel cleared his throat loudly and arched a challenging brow on gaining Darcy's attention. He could barely suppress a guffaw when pink dusted his formidable cousin's cheeks, earning him a baleful glare.

"If you are done with ogling my sister, then perhaps we should inform my father about our finding." Colonel Fitzwilliam teased and started towards his father's study with a disgruntled Darcy in his tow.

Entering the study, they found the Earl sitting behind his desk, lost in his thoughts with a peculiar look on his face.

"What is it, Father?" The Colonel was concerned, noticing his father's discomfort.

The Earl started and gazed at them wildly for a moment which further exacerbated their worry.

"It is nothing. Just some usual estate business." Lord Matlock said flippantly, but his pretence could not have been more apparent.

"Are you sure, Uncle? We can help if you want us to..."

"Nonsense, Darcy. There is no need to get worried. Now, tell me if Jeremiah has found something important?" He asked, changing the topic.

Darcy and the Colonel were not fooled for a moment. However, they decided not to press the Earl. The Fitzwilliams too had their fair share of obstinacy in their gene.

"As a matter of fact, he has." They explained the new development to the Earl.

"Hmm...It seems that everything is centered around Elizabeth's birthday." He said contemplatively.

"So, it appears. Jeremiah is investigating the trustees further and has set some plan in motion for discovering the identity of this Mrs Esmeralda Caruther. However, he refused to disclose anything about it." Mr Darcy offered.

"That man always did have a flair for dramatics." Lord Matlock commented, chuckling.

"Then, there is also the matter of Miss Emily Sutherby. We are yet to discover her identity." As the Colonel spoke, that same, peculiar emotion crossed the Earl's face.

Lord Matlock was in a quandary. Although he was loath to disclose his past indiscretion in front of his son and nephew, as elders are usually wont to do, he also did not wish for Elizabeth to always live in the shadow of danger. Ever since his meeting with Caughey, he had been contemplating the matter. Finally, he decided on a compromise for he was still unsure if it was the same Emily Sutherby.

"As for Miss Sutherby...I did know one more than three decade ago." Lord Matlock began slowly. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy sat straighter in their chair, their interest piqued.

"In fact, that particular lady had several moniker, Ophelia Williams, Serena Wilmanson, Sylvia Dali...which she used for her assignations."

"What?"

"You mean..." Mr Darcy trailed off awkwardly. The Earl cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Yes, she was a fallen woman who had several lovers. Her real name was The Honourable Miss Frederica Colton, the daughter of Baron Colton of Nettlestone."

"Clearly, there was nothing honourable about her." The Colonel mumbled, but the Earl ignored him. There was something cathartic about letting it all go.

"In her very first season, she gained _popularity_ among men. In fact, there were many betting books kept at White's pertaining to..." He trailed off awkwardly.

"Right, and how did _you_ get acquainted with her father?" The Colonel asked suspiciously.

Lord Matlock took a deep cleansing breath and reminded himself that this may as well ensure his daughter's continued well being. The moment of truth was upon him.

"She was my mistress."

"What?" The Colonel and Darcy exclaimed simultaneously, their eyes wide. While it was a common practice for a majority of peers to have numerous affairs and mistresses, they had never taken the Earl to be one of them.

"It was before my marriage to your mother. We were betrothed at that time. I was young, wild and had a large fortune at my disposal. I saw no reason to contain my lust...Besides, she was very beautiful and rather free with her favour." The Earl said almost defensively.

Mr Darcy stole a glance at his cousin, who had a pinched look on his face; a mixture of shock, incredulity and disgust. He himself felt a distaste on hearing his uncle's indiscretion, and could not even begin to imagine his cousin's feelings.

"So, what happened to her?" He asked after an awkward pause.

"I let her go before my marriage to Elienora. A few months later, she went into an early labour and died along with the babe."

"And whose child was she carrying, _Father?"_ The Colonel asked testily, his eyes narrowing.

"I have no way of knowing...no surety...but, pethaps...mine." The Earl spluttered, awkwardly.

* * *

Cheapside, London

A man discreetly delivered a letter at the abandoned house. Mr Robins, an employee of Mr Edwards nodded to his partner Mr Beverly to follow the man. Then, he turned his attention back to the house.

Now, he had to lay in wait for someone to take the letter...someone to fall in their trap and lead them to the culprits.

* * *

Grosvenor Square, London

Not too far away from the Matlock House, the discovery of Lady Elizabeth Anne Fitzwilliam was causing a great deal of turmoil. Years of machinations, careful planning and money spent was all crashing down on the perpetrator.

The grand scheme was falling to shambles. Bit by bit, pieces by pieces, it was becoming unravelled. The revenge was yet to be exacted.

* * *

AN: There were some herbs that were used at that time to prepare potions that could cause miscarriage and even the mother's death if the dose was excessive. According to my research, such potions were usually available with midwives or apothecary.


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you for reading my story.

 **AN:** That bundle was **NOT** Miss Colton's baby either. When the man said, "Do what you must, but get that babe out of there." he meant to get Elizabeth out of the Matlock's estate. The man was **BRIBING** Elizabeth's wet nurse to help them in kidnapping her. The bundle contained money and laudanum, in case the wet nurse had to temporarily dispose someone.

I hope this clears your doubt.

I have posted Chapter 4 of **The Ward.**

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 12 : MUSING

The Matlock House, London

Elizabeth gazed up at the ceiling, lost in her chaotic thoughts. It was quite late in the night, yet she could hardly bring herself to close her eyes. However, unlike other nights since she had left Longbourn, she was not contemplating the drastic changes in her life.

Her thoughts were centred around someone...a cousin of hers, Mr Darcy.

Elizabeth was unsure, perplexed with the feelings that arose in her whenever she was in his company. She had always prided herself for her sensibilty and courage. There was a stubbornness in her that refused to be intimidated by anything or anyone... till now.

Ever since she had met him that fateful night in Hertfordshire, she had found him fascinating. Over the years she had gotten her fair share of attention from men and knew that she was no ugly duckling as much as she was no beautiful swan. But, the attention that Mr Darcy paid to her, generated a frustrating tangle of contradictory emotions in her.

Confusion, curiosity, hope and most prominent of all, a strange warm fluttering and a queer giddiness which disconcerted her. She had never been a fanciful maiden, yet she was being as silly as Lydia, when there were more important matters that should occupy her mind.

Elizabeth knew that even though her new found family was tight lipped about it, she was still in imminent danger. Mr Barrows attempt at...whatever it was that he wanted to do to her and subsequent death were proof of that. Furthermore, the drastic rise in her station, her elevation from the daughter of a country squire of modest means to that of the daughter of a powerful Earl, was enough to upend anyone's equanimity...the equilibrium of life, like it had done hers.

Then there were the Fitzwilliams who left no stone unturned to show their love for her or made her feel cherished. After years of separation, the entire family seemed to gravitate towards her, showering her with affection.

But, she could not bring herself to focus on that. Her mind iteratively played every moment she had spent in Mr Darcy's company. She remembered the coal black flames that lit his eyes every time he beheld her, the warmth in his voice when he addressed her, the concern he felt for her and the unending support he lent her.

Just like the moment they had shared in the carriage when he had comforted her with a small gesture, recognising her vulnerability, he always seemed to know when she was overwhelmed, when she needed a respite. It was almost as if he could read her mind.

And as if his kindness and warmth were not enough to draw her in, his intelligence enamoured her. He was well read and astute and unlike a majority of males in the dogmatic society in which they lived, he felt no bitterness or anger whatsoever, on being bested in a debate by a lady. Mr Darcy challenged her. Even when he proved her wrong, he did it with a disarming gentility.

He was everything a gentleman should be and more.

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth realized that her heart was truly in the danger of being lost.

* * *

The Darcy House, London

Not unlike Elizabeth, Darcy's thoughts were in chaos. His object of contemplation were a pair of fine, emerald green eyes which were as enchanting as the dear face in which they were set.

Ever since their first meeting at Meryton Assembly, he was captivated by her wit, charm and liveliness. Apart from her true identity, Elizabeth's effervescence was what which drew him in. He knew that whilst they shared an insatiable thirst for knowledge and a keen intellect, they were still as different as night and day.

While he was boorish and socially inept, preferring the solitude of his home to balls and parties, she was lively and possessed an ability to brefriend anyone she so wished. She was his exact opposite, yet perfect for him in every way.

Mr Darcy knew that their lack of success in capturing the culprits who had taken her away all those years ago, meant that she was still in danger. Barrows's death was a harrowing evidence of the callousness of the perpetrator. It was a damning proof that no lines shall be left uncrossed by them to protect their identity.

Apparently, it was no good omen for Elizabeth.

Still, he could not suppress his feelings, the emotions that the said lady generated in him. And every moment that he spent with her, caused him to fall deeper, harder.

For the first time in his life, Mr Darcy had fallen in love and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Arryndale, London

Mr Jeremiah Edwards reclined in his chair, nursing a glass of brandy and contemplating the unexpected development in the case he was currently handling. His shock had been great when he had first received the astounding news. He could not even begin to imagine the uproar it will cause when he delivered it to Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Earlier in the day, a woman had surreptitiously slipped in the abandoned house in Cheapside, the address of which Mrs Caruther had given to the bank. The woman had discreetly tucked the letter in her skirt and hurried away with Mr Robins following her from a safe distance.

They had never expected to succeed so quickly for they had expected to wait for days before someone came to take the letter. However, it seemed that either the woman daily checked the house for mails or she had been tipped off by someone. Whatever it maybe, she had led Mr Robins to a grand townhouse in Grosvenor Square.

And the identity of the owner was the cause of his shock.

* * *

Golden Partridge inn, London

Mr Beverly exited the seedy place, satisfied. He had accomplished his task and retrieved the required information from the man who had delivered the letter in Cheapside earlier that day.

Even though he had to spend money to ensure that the man was heavily in his cups, before getting him to spill, he was content that he had gotten the information which Mr Edwards sought.

* * *

The Matlock House, London

The next day did not bring any respite to Colonel Fitzwilliam from the tumultuous thoughts that had plagued him since his father's confession the day before. Even though he knew it was a tacitly accepted convention, a practice for most members of the peerage to keep mistresses or frequent brothels, it was still disconcerting for him to hear about his father's indiscretions, even when he had not technically betrayed Mother.

He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, trying to futilely analyse the entire situation. More so, he was also aware that the death of Emily Sutherby raised further questions.

According to Jeremiah, the trust fund was set up twenty one years ago, the year Elizabeth was born.

So, if Emily Sutherby was truly dead, then who had set up the fund in her name and why did they kidnap Elizabeth?

Neither having an answer for the numerous questions that plagued him, nor being anywhere near the truth, exacerbated his irritation.

Frustrated, the Colonel turned to the missive he had received earlier that morning, trying to gain his equanimity by focussing on something mundane. He tore the envelop and unfolded the letter.

However, it seemed that Colonel Fitzwilliam was not to have a moment of peace that day. With each word he read, his ire rose. Fuming, he rose from his seat and pocketed the letter.

A few moments later, he was on the road, spurring his horse towards Darcy's house.

They had a reprobate to deal with and hopefully send to hell!


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for your support guys. Here's the next update.

I have posted Chapter 5 of **The Ward.**

PLEASE REVIEW. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST WELCOME.

CHAPTER 13 : THE TON

Bond Street, London

The Matlock's carriage pulled up in front of an establishment identified by an ornate plaque bearing the name _Duval_ affixed to its door. By the time the ladies disembarked, a liveried man was holding the door of the shop open for them.

Upon entering, a footman rushed to take their bonnets and coats and they were escorted to the next floor. They were soon joined by an elegantly dressed woman.

"Good Morning, Lady Matlock. It is a pleasure to see you." She curtsied.

"Good Morning, Mrs Duval. Allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Lady Elizabeth Fitzwilliam and my nieces, Miss Georgiana Darcy and Miss Jane Bennet. Ladies, this is Mrs Athena Duval, the owner of this establishment."

Out of her periphery, Elizabeth saw Jane start as Lady Matlock claimed her as her niece. However, her attention was on Mrs Duval who was gaping at her open mouthed.

"Forgive me, my Lady. But the resemblance is so striking! If I may be so bold, Lady Elizabeth is just as beautiful as you." The woman gushed after breaking out of her shocked silence.

Mrs Duval was ecstatic. Even though the entire ton was buzzing with the news of astounding discovery of the daughter of the Earl and Countess of Matlock, none had seen her. So, naturally the ton was eager to know more about the young heiress. Lady Elizabeth was indeed the cause of eagerness of match-making Mamas who had sons and trepidation of those who had daughters. However, apart from her family, none of the ton had even gotten a glimpse of the Lady, till now.

Mrs Duval could only imagine the business that she will surely get once the word got out that she had met Lady Elizabeth. The ladies of the ton will descend on her shop like ravens about a piece of carrion! Grinning gleefully, she showed them her best, most expensive fabric and sketches and models for various types of clothing.

After several hours, during which Elizabeth was thoroughly measured, they finally arose to depart. By that time, more than two dozen evening gowns, a few ball gowns, promenade dresses, morning dresses, along with numerous outer and inner wear were ordered for her alone.

Elizabeth did not even want to know their cost _ever_. She had tried to protest initially but was promptly stopped by Lady Matlock who had told her that she had eighteen years to make up for. Soon after which, Elizabeth had given in, realizing there was no way her mother would listen to her.

Five of her dresses along with two for Georgiana and Jane each were to be delivered to the Matlock House in three days, along with a seamstress for final alteration. They were escorted to their carriage by Mrs Duval herself, profusely thanking Elizabeth for her custom.

"Finally! I do not think I shall even _think_ of shopping for at least a decade." She groaned, sinking in her seat.

The ladies laughed.

"We are just starting, my dear." Lady Matlock said wickedly.

Their next stop was _Mrs Bell's_ from where an assortment of bonnets and gloves were purchased. Then came the shoemaker where a variety of footwear were ordered. By the time they pulled up at _Rundell & Bridge, _who boasted of the Royal family themselves as their patron, Elizabeth was in a daze.

Her feet hurt and head ached. She was fatigued and irritated with the attention, the staring and open-mouthed gawking she had to endure at every shop.

 _And here I thought we live in polite society!_ Elizabeth thought acerbically as she saw two woman staring at her and whispering excitedly behind their fans.

Thus, she found herself at one of the most famous jewellery shops in London, admiring a variety of expensive baubles. After an hour of examining several beautiful pieces, Lady Matlock noticed that her daughter was drawn to a lovely, emerald studded pendent, suspended on a gold chain. She immediately purchased it.

"Mother, there is no need to..." Elizabeth protested, blushing furiously. It still seemed strange to get things she desired so easily, without worrying about their cost.

 _I will never get used to this._ She thought in embarrassment.

"No, Lizzy, let me do this. I will not be denied the pleasure." Lady Matlock said sternly.

After purchasing a few other trinkets for her, Georgiana and Jane, with the protestation of latter as easily disregarded as hers, they started for the Matlock House. It was then, Lady Matlock mentioned a matter which had been the object of contemplation and trepidation for Elizabeth for quite a few days.

"We can no longer avoid the ton, Lizzy. Till now the callers were turned away by giving the excuse that we were desirous of privacy, but we can no longer use that ruse. Season is upon us and you and Jane need to prepare for your presentation in the court." Lady Matlock said.

"Mine? Oh no, Lady Matlock there is no need to..."

"Nonsense, Jane. You will be presented before the Queen with Lizzy. And now that I have claimed you as my niece, I wish for you to call me Aunt Elienora." Lady Matlock said sternly and turned towards Elizabeth.

"As for ladies of the ton, I truly do not think that they can live without knowing about you much longer, Lizzy. They may explode."

"Oh yes, since Miss Bingley is still in Hertfordshire, they know nothing about you." Georgiana blurted and coloured immediately, distracting Elizabeth from her nervousness.

"Why, Miss Georgie, that was positively wicked!" She grinned, causing Georgiana to blush furiously.

"Your father has already sent a letter to Catherine and my brother Michael, informing them about you. They shall be here in a day or two and thereafter, we can perhaps accept callers. I shall never hear the end of it if the ladies of the ton met you before Catherine." Lady Matlock shook her head.

"Whatever you deem fit, Mother." Elizabeth sighed, resigned to her fate. She had already avoided social obligations for long enough. She knew that she could not escape the scrutiny of the ton for long, without starting speculations and rumours.

"Then for this evening, I shall invite my sister, Lady Priscilla Thornmorgton to dine with us. She arrived for the season the previous day." Lady Matlock said, pleased.

* * *

The Matlock House, London

"I hope you do not have any prior engagement this evening, Harold, for we are to have the Thornmorgtons with us." Lady Matlock said lightly.

They were seated in Lady Matlock's parlour, enjoying tea and cakes. Lord Matlock had stepped out after Lunch and Colonel Fitzwilliam was yet to return from the Darcy House.

Elizabeth watched in astonishmment as her older brother, who had been joking just a moment ago, lost his joviality. His eyes darkened in anger and his jaw clenched.

"And shall we also have the _uncomparable_ honour of Marcus's presence, Mother?" He asked curtly.

"Yes." Lady Matlock replied, hesitantly.

"Georgie, I have left some books on the corner table in the Library for you. Why don't you go and check them." Harold suggested, his struggle to maintain his composure evident.

Georgiana nodded, clearly noticing the frigid atmosphere and scuttled out.

"Mother, you know what kind of a..."

"So, what should I have done? Insisted that the invitation does not include him?"

"Perhaps you should have!" Harold spat. Elizabeth and Jane looked at each other horrified. In their short acquaintance, they had never seen the Viscount so incensed.

"Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, please forgive my lack of manners. But I implore you to not allow Marcus Thornmorgton, who is Aunt Priscilla's stepson, within ten feet of you. That man is a libertin, a worthless scum of the first order. The insects that abound in drainage are better than him!"

"Harold!" Lady Matlock was scandalised.

"I speak the truth, Mother. Besides, I would rather compromise their delicate sensibilities than have that cad impose upon them in any way." The Viscount retorted.

"He is not that bad."

"You are right. He is worse! That mongrel even tried to _charm_ you. Had it not been for the gratitude Father feels for Aunt Priscilla for being such a great source of comfort for us when Lizzy was taken from us and your love for her, he would have run him through."

"But Mother is his Aunt!" Elizabeth gasped, aghast.

"Well, relationships do not deter him in his _pursuit._ He will not hesitate to compromise you if he were so inclined. So, please do not be alone in his company. He is the worst of degenerates!" Harold pleaded earnestly, to which both Jane and Elizabeth nodded.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor beyond and moments later Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the parlour, both their faces grim.

"Ladies." They bowed their heads in greeting and turned towards the Viscount.

"Harold, a word." The Colonel said and led his brother to their father's study.

After fortifying themselves with brandy, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy told Lord Harold Fitzwilliam of their finding on Elizabeth's disappearance, including the identity of Miss Emily Sutherby. The Viscount was still reeling from his shock when his brother spoke again.

"This morning, I received a missive from Sir William, the Magistrate of Hertfordshire. Before leaving, I had requested him to let me know if the Cook who was responsible for preparing food for the prisoners, confessed anything."

"And?" The Viscount asked.

"She was _persuaded_ to mix hemlock in the soup that was served to Barrows by Wickham, who was apparently, her lover." Mr Darcy said gravely.

"What? How did he talk that daft woman into taking a man's life? And what was he doing there?"

"Our _dear friend_ Wickham, had purchased a Commission. A militia had taken residence in Hertfordshire, and he was upto his usual devilry of compromising women and accumulating debt." The Colonel spat.

"He had also promised a hundred pounds to the Cook for her help and an escape route out of Hertfordshire." Mr Darcy said, his voice laced with hatred and anger.

 _Were they never to have a moment of respite from that devil's spawn, Wickham?_


End file.
